


pink, satin, and pearl

by lily rose (annabeth)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Genderswap, Incest, LGBTQ Female Character, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest, Toys, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/lily%20rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess has been a hunter since she was a little girl, growing up in close quarters with her as-close-as-a-sister Jo Harvelle at the Roadhouse.  But a misunderstanding between Jess and Jo sends her off on the road by herself, searching for a purpose in her life and a distraction from her heartbreak.</p><p>But when Ellen Harvelle beckons her home in no uncertain terms to meet someone, Jess is about to come face-to-face with her past--and her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pink, satin, and pearl

**Author's Note:**

> \- Sam has always been a girl for this fic.  
> \- written for femmeslashbb.  
> \- beta'd by tequilafish7.  
> \- Spoilers: 'The Pilot'. 'The Benders'. 'Bloody Mary'. 'Provenance'.

Soft fingers at the apex of her thighs, breath hot and whispery against her skin, the catch of long fingernails against her inner walls. Jess arches and forces the fingers in deeper, her own breath snagging in her lungs as she careens higher, every sensation magnified, every touch just _right_.

Long hair brushes against her bare belly, tickling and making the muscles flutter.

"You're so delicious," a feminine voice says, digging her fingers further into Jess and curling them. Jess mutters something, but she's pretty sure it's not English. Latin, maybe.

"Can't believe I'm doing this."

Jess isn't even sure she can remember her own name right now, much less that of her one-night stand, but she cants her hips, her body juicy and open and accepting. The girl between her legs had been drunk when they left the bar, her dark hair wavy, her blue eyes fogged by alcohol, but she had been pretty enough and Jess had really been feeling it.

Some long-ago heard song flits through her mind.

Jess is aware that this is likely the first time this girl has done anything like this, but it's okay, because Jess has been doing it for years.

Sometimes, like now, with the girl camped between her thighs, she'll think of Jo and those few fumbling caresses they'd shared, growing up in the same room, the same bed, at the back of The Roadhouse.

Jess had been an orphan, Jo had been fatherless. They'd clung to each other, slowly but surely falling into the type of love that, years later, is proven to be nothing more than infatuation; at the time, she'd been so sure that Jo was the one and only person for her.

Ellen--Jo's mom--had been so busy running the bar that she'd never noticed how close the girls had become. Or how incestuous the relationship was, when you considered that Jess had been four years old when her parents died in a house fire and she'd wound up at The Roadhouse because Ellen Harvelle had been listed as her next of kin when the cops came and found her, shivering, on the damp lawn outside her burning house.

Yet somehow it had never felt wrong, when she was learning about the changes in her body, to experiment with the girl who might as well have been her sister.

Jess flushes hot, the sudden trip down memory lane pushing her orgasm back, and that's not fair to the girl between her legs--trying so hard, and her first time with a girl, too--so she closes the carton in her mind marked 'Jo' and squeezes her eyes shut until all she can feel is the dark-haired girl's fingers working her.

"Ah--!" she says, and her body clenches down on the girl's fingers. There's a sudden, completely unbroken silence.

And then the fingers are gone; Jess hears the faint whisper of cotton as she wipes her fingers on the over-starched motel sheets.

"I heard something," she says. "Like scratching."

Jess's eyes flutter open, but even post-coital, she's a finely tuned machine. She hears it too: a light, faint raspy sound of nails against the wall. And not like rats, either. Or, for that matter, someone in the room next door.

Jess sits up so fast she goes faint for a second, vision fluttering black.

"Hey, uh," she stops, then finds it in her memory banks after all, "Cory, you should go."

"What? Why?" She's still wearing her tank top and her white satin bikini panties. Jess rolls over, off the bed and onto her feet in one smooth motion, yanking her jeans up her slim hips--no time to bother with panties--and, just the same, tugs her shirt back over her head.

"I just realised I have to call and check in with my mom," Jess lies. Her long-dead mom, yeah, she really cares where Jess is right now.

The girl--Cory--looks slightly offended, but she pulls her black slacks back on and grabs her purse.

"You're a lousy lay," she says, as she nudges the door open with her hip and walks out.

That's probably true; Jess has had to hurry a girl out of her room more than once. And by the same token she's snuck out of enough bedrooms and motel rooms and back alleys to have learned not to suffer any guilt over it.

She reaches under the motel bed and brings out her shotgun.

Most spirits don't leave the places they haunt, but that doesn't mean there aren't those who have gotten malevolent and strong enough to do so if they like.

Or anything else nefarious could be out there.

Jess pumps the shotgun and holds it up, picking up her flashlight, and creeping towards the door.

:::

"Hi, my name is Sarah. Sarah Blake. And you are?"

"Kate Myles," Jess says, taking the young woman's hand and shaking it. She's exceptionally pretty in that fine-boned, delicate fashion some girls have; she's wearing a slinky black dress that loves every curve.

"I don't think you're on the guest list..." Sarah says doubtfully, then glances behind her, wrapping her slender fingers around Jess's and pulling her towards an alcove. "We just won't tell anyone," she says, and gives Jess a slightly lopsided smile. Somehow, the less-than-perfect smile makes her even prettier.

Jess is investigating a haunting, but she finds herself wanting this girl just the same. Her black hair is pulled back, her blue eyes astute, and Jess wonders...

"Hey." she says. "You want to grab coffee?"

"I--" Sarah frowns a little. "I can't right now, but maybe later?"

Ah ha, Jess's gaydar is still functioning at peak levels. She suspects that Sarah Blake is bi, and probably just looking for the right girl to experiment with to see if she likes it.

Jess should probably feel guilty for the number of times she 'corrupts' young women into sleeping with her, but her libido just wants Sarah Blake beneath her in bed.

"Awesome." Jess reaches into her purse, scribbles her cell number down onto an old gas receipt. "This is where you can reach me; I'm staying just outside of town."

"I'll give you a call when we're done here," Sarah says. She smiles shyly this time, less self-assured. It's endearing. Jess squeezes her fingers--their hands are still linked--and then makes her graceful exit.

Always leave them wanting more.

:::

They grab a coffee at a little place Sarah swears is amazing. Jess could get to like New York, she thinks. If she didn't have a job to do, if she didn't have to move on as soon as it was finished, she might have considered starting something more long-term with Sarah.

Then again, Jess's track record with 'long-term' boils down to the six months--and not necessarily consecutively, either--she spent messing around with Jo before realising it was never going to work; she took to the road the next morning, hunting alone even though she'd always been warned against it.

But she'd caught Jo flirting with a sexy, bad-boy type, and wondered. Maybe she'd just been the interlude, a phase; Jess hadn't been able to accept that, and she'd driven off before she could really think it through.

Sitting here, talking to Sarah about the art history course she took at community college one summer, Jess asks herself yet again if she made the right decision.

How could she know, for sure, if she hadn't even bothered to confront Jo about it?

"So..." Sarah says all of a sudden. "You look really pensive. You wanna talk about it?"

The answer is 'no', really, but she opens her mouth and says, instead, "Just thinking about my ex."

"Yeah? How did it end?" Sarah flushes; the rosy hue looks flattering against her alabaster skin. "I'm sorry, that was an intensely personal question." Sarah rubs her cheek as if she can somehow scrub the blush away, then twirls a lock of hair around her finger. "I just feel like... like I can say anything to you. Isn't that strange?"

"I'm easy to talk to," Jess says. "People tell me that all the time." She doesn't add, _I cultivate that, so that I can pump people for information._

"You really are." Sarah looks away for a second. "Was it... messy? I know I shouldn't ask, but..."

"Not really," Jess says. Time to either reel her in or send her running. "It was stupid, really. I saw her talking to a guy and freaked out. Overreacted, decided a road trip would be just the thing to clear my head."

"I'd like to go on a road trip someday," Sarah says, smiling a little ruefully. "Sometimes the family business gets a little overwhelming."

 _You have no idea_ , Jess wants to say, but doesn't. Her phone beeps, and when she checks it, it's another text from Jo. She deletes it unread--she's too much of a coward to face whatever Jo might have to say.

But Sarah didn't go running for the door when Jess mentioned the sex of her past lover, so she figures her gaydar hit it right on the money.

"You wanna go back to my place?" she asks, diving in with both feet.

Sarah hesitates. "I shouldn't." Then, as if she thinks that sounds wrong, she adds quickly, "Not that I don't want to. Just, my dad will probably have a heart attack if I don't go home by a reasonable hour." She shrugs diffidently. "He still thinks I'm a kid sometimes."

"We can just watch a movie," Jess offers. "Get you home by ten." She's kind of ashamed of herself; she could get this girl off in about fifteen minutes, tops, and send her home by eight-thirty. But she wants to take her time.

Sometimes a quick fuck is just what the doctor ordered.

Sometimes she wants to savour things, though; go slow and learn every inch of someone's skin, even if her hands will only travel that undiscovered country one time.

"Yeah," Sarah says, smiling again. This one brings out a dimple in her cheek. "That sounds nice."

"Come on," Jess says. She gives Sarah her best grin, the one that convinces guys she's hot for the taking. "We gotta hurry to get you back in by ten."

:::

Sarah looks almost impossibly gorgeous all mussed up, dark hair contrasting the white of the pillowcase, her chest heaving, breasts nearly spilling over the cups of her bra.

Black satin with black lace edging on the demi cup; not at all the demure sort of thing Jess had been expecting. She runs her fingers up and down Sarah's sides.

"This is..." Sarah pants, words uttered between breaths.

"Just enjoy it," Jess says. "Feel remorse in the morning."

"I won't," Sarah says. Jess slips two fingers into the elastic of her black lace panties and slides them down her thighs, over smooth, probably just shaved skin. Sarah is shaved all over; Jess trembles. She'll take anything, but the softness of that most tender skin? It makes Jess's mouth flood with saliva.

Sarah's knees fall open, welcoming Jess in. Jess kisses the inside of one silky thigh, right over a beauty mark. She licks the place she just kissed, then slides her hand up Sarah's inner thigh.

Sarah's already wet when Jess parts her folds and delves inside. Sarah likes this--Jess sometimes wonders how any girl couldn't.

"Kate..." Sarah moans, and Jess hates the deception. She distracts herself by opening Sarah up for her mouth.

Sarah tastes sweet and musky and Jess sets about the task of eating her out.

:::

Jess deals with the haunting faster than she'd like, because all too soon she's saying good-bye to Sarah.

Sarah doesn't look like she does regret the time they spent together, even though it took about five minutes to get her off and around thirty to teach Sarah what she liked so that Jess got off, too.

"Will you come back this way again?" Sarah asks; she winds an arm around Jess's waist. "Say you'll stop by again to see me."

'Yeah," Jess lies. "Of course I will."

She presses a kiss to Sarah's lips; this is their first kiss. Jess doesn't always kiss the girls she hooks up with, but Sarah _is_ special.

Sarah is a good kisser, but Jess knows it's from practise with boys. That leads to a sharp pang in her chest and she pulls back, taking a second to tuck a lock of Sarah's hair behind her ear.

"I've gotta move on," she says.

"Good-bye," Sarah says. She reluctantly lets go of Jess.

"Call me if you want," Jess says. "I'll always pick up for you."

This, too, is a lie: Jess can't afford too many personal connections, and she's already made too much of one here. She's going to have to switch phones again.

She climbs into her car, knowing that Jo will just get Ash to find her new number, but she's not hiding from Jo, not exactly.

No, she's not _hiding_ from Jo, just avoiding the inevitable.

:::

_"This is what I do," Jo says, and she pokes Jess in the ribs. "Watch."_

_Ellen's gone out to get more pretzels, and Jess and Jo are sitting in the humid air of their bedroom, which has one bed, a dresser, and a sagging couch because before Jo was born, this was just another spare room._

_The Roadhouse does good business, but it was still a financial stretch to take Jess in when she was orphaned, though Ellen has never complained._

_Jo grins, wickedly, and gets to her feet, leaving Jess sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching her. Jo is wearing only a tank top with thin straps and bikini panties; no bra._

_She straddles the arm of the couch, hands folded on top of each other in front of her, and slowly starts to grind herself against the rigid arm beneath her._

_Jess watches, fascinated, as Jo's eyes flutter closed and her body writhes a little, liquid grace and beauty, all coltish fourteen-year-old limbs and pretty blond hair falling in lank strands in her face._

_It's too hot to do much of anything, but this is not the first time that Jess and Jo have explored their budding hormones together. It's still innocent, Jess thinks, just a little experimentation and who could possibly mind it?_

_She stares at Jo, whose body is rocking back and forth on the arm of the couch, her lips slightly parted. She moves just right, apparently, because she lets out a little gasp and a shiver runs through her body._

_Jo's boobs are still small, but the nipples are peaked and easily visible through the thin fabric of her tank._

_"I'm gonna--watch me, Jessie," Jo says, the words interwoven with a moan. "Watch, watch!"_

_As if Jess could take her eyes away; Jo rubs her lower body hard against the couch and gasps, her body going tense all over, and then she's wracked with shudders, making noises like nothing Jess has ever heard. Pants and 'aah, ooh, aahh!' types of noises._

_She can feel her eyes widen. She's pretty sure Jo just had an orgasm, which is something she's never achieved yet. Maybe it's because she's a year younger than Jo, but she springs up off the bed and trots over._

_"I wanna know what it feels like!" she says, grabbing Jo's bicep. Jo opens her eyes, looking glassy and out-of-it._

_"I'll help you," Jo says. "It's hardest the first time, 'till you learn what you're doing, but then it gets easier."_

_"I wish I were a boy," Jess mumbles. "Seems so easy for them."_

_"I'll show you," Jo repeats. She flops over onto the couch, legs falling open, and the crotch of her panties is wet through. Jess is utterly transfixed. She's never been that wet, either._

_"Can I--?" she starts to ask, and Jo cracks an eye._

_"Whatever you want, babe," she says, and Jess hears the attempt at sophistication that Jo technically doesn't have yet._

_She reaches down tentatively, hand nearing Jo's crotch, the plump mound that's so damp. Just looking at her, Jess can tell how swollen her body is down there._

_But, in the end, she can't bring herself to make contact. She yanks her hand back._

_"I don't know," she says, but when she moves, she can feel the slight dampness in her own panties. She's turned on, a bit, and she doesn't know if it's because she's young and horny, or because of Jo. It's not normal to get like this over a girl, right?_

_She backs up. "I'm just... you should show me."_

_Jo stretches, then slides off the couch and to her feet in a perfectly graceful move that Jess is incredibly jealous of._

_She threads their hands together and tugs Jess over to the bed. "Lie back," she instructs._

_Jess does as she's told; Jo settles in between Jess's legs, nudging them apart._

_And then she--_

Jess's eyes snap open. She's been parked in a rest stop on the way to Toledo for awhile, catching a nap so she doesn't crash her car. She's frustrated, her lower body throbbing and wet inside her jeans and panties.

She's sick of the memories; they constantly assault her when she sleeps, they creep in whenever she lets her guard down, and she _doesn't want to remember Jo_.

It's painful, thinking of those halcyon days, those innocent romps with her best friend, the closest thing she's ever had to a sister, the most awkward lover, yet the very fact of their awkwardness, their inexperience, throws a golden cast over Jo.

Something about that, those fumbling caresses, those clumsy times they fucked, still means more to Jess than anyone since. Still makes her hot. Still haunts her, even though she knew someday it would come to an end. Like Jo would ever want Jess after she could have anyone--and that hot guy, with the leather jacket and the piercing green eyes, really seemed to have caught Jo's attention.

Fuck it. Fuck everything. Jess adjusts the seat back up and turns the key in the ignition, putting the car in gear and pulling out of the rest stop parking lot.

She's not going to think of Jo any more, goddammit. She's going to move on with her fucking life.

Not that it's likely, but maybe someday she'll find someone else; someone to replace Jo, to nullify the ache in her chest when she thinks of her first love.

How stupid is she, anyway? How stupid _was_ she, to fall in love when there was never any guarantee that Jo wanted anything more than to mess around as they learned the way their bodies worked?

She shakes her head and speeds up on the highway, letting the white lines blur and her mind turn to the instinct of driving.

She should be in Toledo by later in the afternoon to check out a mysterious death.

:::

In Toledo, Jess discovers two things: one, that the body she's come to look at has had his eyes literally liquefied in his skull; and two, an adorable blond named Charlie who brings all sorts of things to the surface of Jess's mind and heart that she doesn't want to think about.

"I don't know why Donna said it," Charlie says. "I begged her not to, but she just called me a freak and did it anyway."

Jess sits down on the bed, one leg underneath her, the other foot balanced on the floor, and rubs Charlie's back. "There wasn't anything you could do," she says soothingly. "But I need to know... who died, Charlie?"

Charlie glances down, fingers moving restlessly in her lap, tears falling unchecked and leaving tiny wet splotches on the denim of her jeans.

"How did you now?" she says in a tear-clogged whisper. "I've never told anyone."

"It's the spirit's MO," Jess says. "It's really okay, Charlie. Whatever happened, I'm not going to think badly of you because of it."

Charlie sniffles, twisting the hem of her shirt in her hands. "Jill was one of my best friends," she whispers. "I know that doesn't seem relevant, but when my family moved here, Jill was the first person to let me sit at her lunch table in the cafeteria. The first person who didn't think I was a freak."

Jess makes approving noises, wanting to keep Charlie talking, whether it takes her five minutes or an hour to get to the point. It might be unfair, but she thinks Charlie's hot, and so she has more patience than she might otherwise have.

"Back where I used to live," Charlie continues after trying to compose herself a little, "I had a baby sister. And I was supposed to be watching her. And I _was_ , but I... I was stupid. I looked away from her in the tub for two seconds and the next thing I know, she's not breathing."

Jess can feel the bottom drop out of her stomach: how awful that must have been for her. Jess has no doubt Charlie really didn't intend for it to happen.

"My mom got blamed," Charlie adds. "It was ruled an accident, but everyone in town thought it was her fault, and it's the reason my parents broke up and we moved. And when we got here, no-one knew that about me, so it seemed like things were going to be okay. And then..." she goes silent and still, tears still sliding down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Jess says, and it's not a lie, actually, which is a miracle, considering how often she has to lie on gigs. "That's why Mary's after you: she's trying to punish you for carrying a secret where someone died. But you don't deserve that punishment, Charlie, I promise."

She gives her a quick hug, and then checks all the shades, the coverings on the mirrors, any reflective surface.

"I have to go find a way to dispel her spirit," she tells Charlie. "As long as you stay on the bed and don't look in any mirrors or other things like that, you will be okay, I swear to you. And as soon as it's safe, I will come back for you."

Just before she shuts the door, Charlie lifts her head, and her eyes meet Jess's, and Jess's gaydar goes suddenly haywire.

And she thinks, _maybe Charlie told me that information about Jill for a reason._ She carefully closes the door and strides down the hall, trying to look confident and unmolestable so that no-one will impede her progress--sometimes people do, just because they think she's hot (usually guys, so she's not interested)--and exits her motel.

It just so happens that here, now, she's keeping the secret that her parents died, and her little sister died, and it was all her fault. So she's just going to have to summon Bloody Mary herself.

People--Ellen and Jo, mainly--know that Jess's parents died. But no-one, absolutely not a soul, realises Jess used to have a baby sister. She's not sure why; she should have had a birth certificate, she should have _existed_ to someone outside of her own mind, but Jess went searching for information once when she'd gotten older, and she hadn't found anything.

Nothing to suggest she'd ever been born. No record of her death. It was like she'd dreamed her up entirely.

Jess has no idea why there's no birth certificate. She's not even sure why Ellen was listed as her next of kin, since there's no true relation and Jess's mother hadn't spoken to Ellen in years--long before Jess was born, even.

Maybe it wasn't Jess's fault that her family perished in that fire--but Jess can't say that conclusively. She remembers next to nothing about that night. It's all flashes and bright lights and then pitch darkness sliding like a curtain over her mind.

Sometimes, in that dim, transitional state between sleep and wakefulness, she'll feel like she's running, carrying something that fills her arms with its size and weight, but whenever she finally comes to wakefulness completely, she can't remember anything beyond the ache in her arms.

Jess thinks maybe it _was_ her fault. Maybe she started that fire somehow, she can't remember, and that elusive, lost memory plagues her.

Only once, in the bitter darkness of winter at the Roadhouse, Jess had confessed to Jo that she thought she'd killed her parents.

:::

_"I think it was my fault," Jess lets hang in the air, Jo's bed rustling, mattress creaking, as she rolls over._

_"What is?" Jo asks sleepily, clearly half-buried in her pillow and on the verge of drifting off whether Jess is having an epiphany or not._

_"My parents. Do you think they died because of me?" Jess knows she sounds a little desperate for reassurance that she didn't do it, _she_ didn't cause it._

"No," Jo replies immediately, even though she's still obviously nearly asleep. "It was an accident, like Mom says."

Seventeen-year-old Jess wants to believe that more than anything. She slides out of her bed and goes over, shoves Jo so that she pushes over, and presses in between the covers, scrunching her fingers into Jo's hair and leaving her hand, opened like a claw, clasped over the back of Jo's neck.

"I think it's my fault," she says. Jo squirms against her, petite breasts rubbing against her arm.

"It isn't," Jo says with authority. "My mother would know, and she said it wasn't. Come on, Jessie, let's sleep, all right?"

Jess curls closer into her--it's cold, and Jo is warm and pleasantly soft. Jess remembers those formative years and slowly she angles her head, giving Jo time to respond, but when she doesn't move away, Jess kisses her--just for a second, really.

But it makes her heart give a shiver, and she closes her eyes, wondering why they stopped fooling around.

:::

By the time Jess is done getting rid of Mary Worthington--a feat that takes all of her strength and a good dose of luck--it's pretty late. So when she gets back to her motel room and finds that Charlie has slipped off to sleep while she was gone, she can't bring herself to wake her up to take her back home, even though she suspects Charlie's father is going to wonder where she is.

But the door makes a soft click as she closes it, and Charlie sprawls out onto her back, eyes blinking open in the dim light.

"Is it safe?" she asks sleepily, and Jess crosses the room, gets on the bed next to her.

"Yeah," she says. "Sleep, and I'll tell you about it in the morning when I take you home."

"All right," she says like she's not _really_ awake, and Jess doesn't think she is, not really. Her eyes droop closed again and Jess has a more difficult time finding sleep, so she winds up twirling strands of Charlie's long blond hair around her fingers.

"You remind me of someone," she whispers, voice so low even she can barely hear it. Charlie obviously doesn't, lost to a dream world, breathing even and regular, face relaxed.

Jess wishes she could relax, but there are so many thoughts clamouring at her mind, trying to claw their way to the forefront, that she can't hush it. Restless mind, restless body; Jess keeps her eyes trained on Charlie and gradually her body does relax a little, but only because it's opening up in arousal, panties going wet, a heated flush streaking up into her cheeks.

"You remind me of someone I used to love," she tells Charlie, yet one more secret that only one other person really knows, and that person's not around to divulge it, even if she would. "She had blond hair, straighter than yours, and a little brighter colour, but... blond and slender and cute, and it's just..." Jess snaps her mouth closed. Even if there's no-one to hear, she still doesn't want to be saying these things, doesn't want to be giving a voice to the nagging emotions she's still trying to bury.

What she's not ready to admit to anyone, especially herself, is how much _someone I_ used _to love_ is untrue.

:::

Jess's cell phone buzzing on the table by her head wakes her the next morning. She grabs it, about ready to answer, when she opens her scratchy, tired eyes, and makes out the number of the Roadhouse flashing on the screen.

It might be Ellen, and if so, Jess should answer it--but it's more than likely Jo, and she's still not ready to go there, not able to face Jo or the fact that she'd done something as impulsive as run away.

She rejects the call and turns her phone off.

Charlie's still sleeping, so Jess puts her legs over the side of the bed, yawns and stretches her arms above her head, and heads into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take a shower.

She knows someday she is going to have to retrace her steps back, at least talk to Jo.

But Jess keeps hoping that maybe if she puts it off just one more day, she won't ever actually have to.

:::

Jess is using her computer to search for more possible hunts by the time Charlie comes out of the bathroom, teeth brushed and hair hastily finger-combed. She's wearing her clothes from last night, since she obviously didn't bring anything with her to change into.

Jess tries to keep her eyes from wandering back to Charlie, but it's difficult, because Charlie is pretty damn hot. She's also pretty damn young, but Jess isn't really all that concerned about that--she should be, but she's not going to be in this town long enough to run into any consequences, and she's not going to make Charlie do anything she doesn't want to do, either.

But after a few moments Charlie comes over. Jess allows herself a closer peek, and discovers that Charlie is actually wearing her shirt from yesterday, no bra, and bikini panties with little decorative bows on the sides.

She leans into Jess's space, her breath fluttering against Jess's scalp and the side of her face, and says,

"You look awfully busy."

Jess has the feeling that Charlie's leading up to something--and probably something she's going to enjoy. It's intuition, but Jess's intuition is rarely wrong.

She turns and lifts her face, staring straight up at Charlie, who immediately cups her neck and sinks down, lips covering Jess's as her knees touch the floor.

Jess tangles her fingers in the long blond hair and dedicates herself wholeheartedly to kissing Charlie. And she's a really good kisser.

She's not sure how much experience Charlie has with girls, but she clearly has had experience with kissing, and judging from _that_ , she's at least made out with a few, because boys rarely know how to take their time and do it right.

And boy, does Charlie know how to take her time and do it right. Jess can feel herself getting wet; can feel the way her lips swell from arousal as well as Charlie's kiss; can feel how her body heats up and goes soft and pliant, ready for more.

Charlie either senses this, or she has more experience under her belt than Jess expects, because her hand snakes down between them to press at the front of Jess's jeans.

She grinds the heel of her palm against Jess, and Jess widens her legs to give her easier access; Charlie's kisses don't falter, and pretty soon Jess is gasping into her mouth, hips jerking against Charlie's hand, and she actually has to push Charlie's mouth away for a moment to get her bearings.

She's always thought that, given time, she could be a good lover--she does, for instance, know what girls like. But usually time is a luxury she doesn't have... right now, though, it would appear that she has more time than usual, and she is going to take advantage of it.

She reaches in between Charlie's legs and cups her; her panties are already dampened through, and Jess feels saliva well up in her mouth, desperate to touch, to taste.

"The bed," she whispers hoarsely, and stands up, guiding Charlie across the room, carefully nudging her backwards onto the mattress.

Jess slips a finger into Charlie's panties by each hip and starts to tug them down; Charlie lifts her hips and helps Jess get them down over her thighs.

Jess drops them to the floor and climbs onto the bed, one knee between Charlie's thighs, the other pressed against her hip, and she puts one hand on the bed by Charlie's head, and then uses the other to stroke over the soft outside curve of Charlie's breast through her tank.

She ducks her head down and re-initiates the kiss, thumb caressing Charlie, and Charlie's hands come up onto her shoulders first, tentative--then she grows bolder, running both palms down over Jess's chest, pausing at the apex of her breasts, her fingers just brushing Jess's nipples.

Jess groans into her mouth and licks her lower lip, then closes her teeth gently on it, tugging a little until Charlie makes a little breathless moan.

Jess slides her hand down Charlie's body, flattening it on her belly first, just holding it there, until Charlie begins to squirm underneath her, hips lifting off the bed, trying to get Jess to move _down_.

She kisses her deeper, tongue sinking into the depths of her mouth, chased by Charlie's; as soon as Charlie's preoccupied, she slips her hand down the rest of the way and over her.

Her lower lips are already swollen and slick, and it doesn't take any effort to push the first finger inside, crooking it so that Charlie lets out a gasp, hips jerking up, and inadvertently driving Jess's finger in deeper, all the way to the second knuckle.

Charlie's plenty wet, but she's also plenty tight, and Jess gets the impression that she must have done something like this with a girl before, but she's still a virgin when it comes to guys.

She has a strange, fleeting thought: she wants to get to _know_ this girl, suddenly; wants to ask her if she's bi, what kind of music she likes, who her favourite actor is.

And then her mind is swamped by the feel of Charlie's teeth on her lip, the soaked, rich heat of her body, snug around Jess's finger; Jess positions another finger at her entrance and urges that one in alongside the other.

Again, as soon as she gets it inside, Charlie's hips cant up and her mouth opens on a startled cry. But it's the _good_ kind of cry: a sound of inescapable pleasure.

"More," Charlie pants, "please."

Jess isn't sure if she means, _deeper_ , or _more fingers_ , but she decides to try the latter; she gets the tip of another finger into Charlie's soft channel, and Charlie's muscles squeeze against the fingers already within.

Jess tears her lips away, sucking in great draughts of air, her hair sweaty at her temples, her own body twanging like a well-tuned guitar, desperate for contact.

She plunges her fingers in and out, and then gets two in as far as she can, and bends them at the knuckles against that slight bump within Charlie--Charlie squeaks, her body spasms, and her muscles begin to clench and release around Jess's fingers.

Jess counts it as a win, really. She slides her fingers out, and then, just as Charlie's body is starting to calm, the tremors fading, she circles Charlie's clit, fingertip still drenched with the come from her body, and sends her reeling all over again.

Her own jeans are chafing against the swollen, wet flesh of her own body, and she doesn't know if Charlie's going to get _her_ off, or if she's going to have to do it herself; Charlie is breathing in erratic bursts, and her heart, when Jess plants her hand over it, is racing.

Charlie has just gotten the button undone on Jess's jeans when a cell rings loud into the closed, charged air surrounding them.

" _Fuck_ ," Charlie breathes. "I'm so sorry," she apologises, and pulls her hand away. She rolls onto her side underneath Jess, who sighs silently and flops onto the bed next to her.

Charlie opens her phone and says, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'll be home soon. I stayed over at Tessa's last night. I thought I called and left a message, but I might have gotten distracted and forgotten." There's a span of time where her father must be speaking, and then Charlie says, with slightly panicked eyes in Jess's direction, "A boy? No! I was just, uh, I just had a shower."

Jess plants her face in her palm. Charlie's dad has apparently noticed that his daughter sounds out-of-breath and, well, like she's coming off the rush of orgasm.

She really should know better than to get involved.

Charlie says something else Jess isn't paying attention to, then dumps the phone on the bedside table and scrambles off the bed, finding her clothes and shoving herself into them.

"I am so sorry," Charlie says again. "I would... thank you so much. But I have to go."

"I'll drive you," Jess tells her. "And it's okay, I understand."

Jess knows that Charlie is thanking her for more than just saving her life, and Jess _does_ want to ask if Charlie's wondered before whether she was bi or lesbian, and whether Jess answered that question for her, but it's really none of her business--not because she's uncomfortable asking someone a personal question (if she were, she wouldn't get very far on any gig), but because she has no right to carve out a place in Charlie's life as more than just a one-night-stand.

She wonders if Charlie will think about her, this morning, in the coming months; Jess knows she can't dwell on that.

Jess buttons her jeans again and grabs the keys to her car, waiting as Charlie quickly finger-combs her hair in the mirror again and splashes water on her cheeks to try and make the sex-flush go away.

Jess snags her around the waist just before they go through the half-open door, giving her one last kiss. "It was nice meeting you," she says honestly, even though she knows that as soon as she drops Charlie off, she's going to be coming back here to pack up and bail. She's not sure Charlie realises that, so this is good-bye, even if the girl doesn't know it yet.

It's the story of her life, that she never has time to get close to anyone, and in some ways, it's cruel to even try.

:::

As Jess drives out of Toledo, she turns her phone back on because she knows she can't leave it off forever. Immediately it chimes at her to signify a text message.

Her body is still worked up, her flesh throbbing hot all over. She needs to find a bar or a truckstop or something and find someone to get her off, even if it's in a cheap motel with the taste of whiskey in her mouth.

Jess asks herself, not for the first time, how she wound up in this state, in this way of life, and the only answer she can ever come up with is that it seems as though most hunters eventually find themselves alone and seeking companionship in the arms of strangers.

When she stops for a red light, she grabs the phone. This time, the text message is from Ellen, and while Jess isn't sure that Jo isn't just stealing her mother's phone, she opens it.

 _Shame on you,_ it reads. _Could at least keep in touch._

Jess sees the light go green out of the corner of her and drops the phone between her thighs, then clicks on her turn signal and pulls the car into a parking lot. As she's finding a space, the phone vibrates against her body, which doesn't help matters _at all_.

She really needs to get off. And she needs to find a pretty brunette to do it, too, so that she won't think of anything--anyone--else while it's happening.

She shoves the gearshift into park and picks up the phone again. The display shows the Roadhouse's number again, and Jess sighs. She pushes the button and the call connects.

"Jessica Lee," says Ellen sternly, "Do you know how irresponsible it is to run away from your problems?"

Jess doesn't think Ellen realises just _why_ Jo might be considered on of her 'problems', but she replies,

"You tell me this every time. What's up?"

"Well," Ellen says. "If you're going to hunt... there's weird goings-on in California, and I think you should check it out."

"All right, yeah," Jess agrees, planning to look up in the papers in California as soon as she gets the chance to boot up her laptop.

"And answer Jo," Ellen says firmly, and Jess sighs.

"I will," she lies, knowing that when Ellen realises she lied, she's going to be in such deep shit it will be like she's in an elephant's pen.

She and Ellen exchange good-byes and Jess flings the phone onto the seat next to her.

Dammit.

:::

Generally, when Jess has a brush with the law, it's because she's just done something to warrant it: digging up graves in the middle of the night, picking locks, any number of things; most of the time, the things they question her about are inconclusive and she knows it's time to move on from that town.

That can be difficult if she hasn't finished up the hunt yet, but she's never yet actually been arrested.

But in Hibbing, Minnesota, she stops in a bar to listen for any information on a possible hunt, and she runs into one of the most beautiful women she's ever seen.

She's dressed in a police uniform, and she's standing at the bar, questioning the bartender. She's all business, completely focused on her objective, and Jess is impressed and turned on by her competence.

The reason Jess is in Hibbing is twofold: one, she had already tagged a possible hunt there, and two, because she figured maybe she could get laid and work on scratching the itch she's had since Toledo, when Charlie had to rush home so abruptly.

And staring at the pretty cop, Jess thinks she just might get lucky. She digs through her purse for one of her fake IDs, but the gorgeous woman turns completely towards her, and Jess's breath stops right in her lungs, freezing there.

She's slightly older, yes, but her eyes are a beautiful, icy blue, like the sky after an ice storm. Her features are classically sculpted, and Jess has trouble walking up to her and speaking, short of breath like she is.

This is one of the few times that Jess has questioned her own appeal. She's not at all sure that she can measure up to how beautiful she is; Jess thinks the cop is probably _way_ out of her league, but she turns on her thousand watt smile and figures she'll flirt with her just the same, even though at this juncture, she can't tell whether the cop will be receptive to it.

"Hi," she says, thrusting out her hand. "I'm Kate Milldale, from the FBI. I'm investigating your missing persons case."

The cop shakes her hand, nice, firm grip and dry palms. She's self-assured, not nervous or worried at all.

"Kathleen Hudak," she says briskly. "If you're here about the missing people, you'll need some information. I think I can help you if you come back to the station."

Jess smiles coyly and flips her hair over her shoulder, feeling like typical flirting is _so_ obvious, but... she does it anyway.

"It's very nice to meet you," she says as they walk towards the exit. She gets a brief, calculating look from Kathleen, but no questions. It's as if Kathleen knew she was really saying, _It's_ very _nice to meet you_ , with the underlying implication that it's nice to meet her for reasons other than simple co-operation on a case.

"We're not sure what's happening," Kathleen says as she opens the door and holds it for Jess. "There are no clues, really. There's a strange grinding, shrieking sound, and then someone just vanishes. There's only one witness so far--which is how we know about the odd noise--but it's a seven-year-old boy and he was pretty traumatised."

"That's a good start," Jess comments, and Jess points. "That's my car. I'll meet you at the station?"

"It's two miles down the road," Kathleen tells her. "Park in the back."

Jess nods, unlocking her car door and sliding inside. She can't tell yet if she has any chance of getting lucky, but _God_ , she hopes so, because it would be a travesty if she didn't get to hit that.

Once more, she finds herself wishing that she had time to stick around, that she didn't have to fake it for everyone, and that she could just start a relationship and actually have some companionship for once.

She finds the police station easily enough, rounds the corner and parks in the back lot as instructed, and feels a little guilty for perving so hard on Kathleen, especially since it's so shallow.

But Kathleen also has glossy dark hair, tied up in a bun, yes, but Jess can already imagine without too much trouble how it might look loose, curling in sleek waves around her face.

And, Jess reminds herself, brunette is a good thing. A very good thing. She pockets the keys to her car and steps around the side of the building, following the walkway up to the glass double doors.

Kathleen is shuffling through papers when Jess walks in, but she glances up, and suddenly her professional veneer slips for a second as she smiles at Jess.

Jess is, again, struck dumb, breath lodging like a hard candy in her throat. If she thought Kathleen was beautiful before, she really had no idea.

"I'm just collating the information and leads we have so far," she says, all professionalism again. "As soon as I get all of these in order, you can peruse them at your leisure."

Jess sees her opening, like a neon sign flashing in front of her.

"It's getting on to evening," Jess begins. "I was going to stop in that diner and grab something quick to eat; would you like to join me, and we'll go over the files together?"

Kathleen pauses, going almost preternaturally still. Slowly she meets Jess's eyes, and her heart trips over a beat at those eyes focused directly on her.

"I'd like that," she says softly, and Jess knows that she's accepting the invitation as more than just sorting through files over a greasy dinner.

"Great," Jess says, slapping her grin across her face. She's actually genuinely happy, but she's also anxious, so her ability to let her true emotions shine through is impeded and all she has to fall back on is her talent for dissembling.

"I can meet you in an hour," Kathleen says. Her smile fills her eyes, and the corners crinkle up endearingly--and also, in the most ridiculously hot fashion.

Jess thinks she might just die, if Kathleen manages to get any hotter.

"I'll be there," Jess promises. She waves, and makes her way back out of the station.

She can't concentrate on the case at all any more; she's too distracted by her own demanding body.

:::

They do go over the files, mostly because Kathleen obviously has better concentration than Jess--that and she's probably not as wowed by Jess's own attractiveness--and Jess manages to eke out a piece of information that the police missed: every person has gone missing from the same parking lot of the bar that she met Kathleen in.

The cops had made notes about each missing person, looking for a connection, and while they had pinned down where each person had gone missing _from_ , what they hadn't realised--and Jess did, because she knew a lot about cars--was that each person had an awfully nice car.

Some of them were classics, and a fair number of the missing were travellers.

"It's curious," Jess muses, "that the cars seem to be an important link. Perhaps that's the common thread between the victims."

"Other than that," Kathleen says, "there's no other evidence, and it's impossible to track the cars. It's almost as if the people drove right into the words, parked, and then suffocated themselves on exhaust fumes. But why would anyone do that? It makes no sense--one person, maybe, but twelve?"

Jess points to a notation at the bottom of a much older investigative report, written in tiny uneven script.

"More than twelve," she says. "Twelve in the last two years. But there have been others, according to this. At least twenty more dating back over the last ten years."

"How did my people miss that?" Kathleen asks, holding out her hand for the piece of slightly crinkled paper. Jess passes it over, then grabs a greasy french fry and puts it in her mouth, conscious all the while of whether she looks like a glutton as she eats.

"It's a pretty small note, and hard to read," Jess says. "And probably no-one thought there was any connection."

"We did miss this," Kathleen says. "That's unconscionable. And how come no-one opened a much more in-depth investigation into this? If people have been going missing for ten years, we should be doing something better to protect our town."

"It isn't your fault," Jess says. "But it's another whole heap of clues to sift through. Maybe there's something in those old reports that has a lead we don't currently possess."

Kathleen gives her a lopsided smile. "You're really smart. I can see why you're working for the Bureau. I have a guest room," she says all at once. "Save you some unfortunate time in our one extremely dilapidated motel."

"Are you certain?" Jess asks; "I'm plenty used to crappy motels."

"All the more reason for you not to have to spend any more time in them than necessary," Kathleen says. "Yes, I am sure. Come stay with me for the duration of the case."

Jess shrugs, attempting nonchalance, and this time she knows her smile reaches her eyes.

"I'd love to," she says, pitching her voice husky and low. Kathleen turns her face just slightly towards the window, and on the sharp cut of her cheekbone, Jess can make out the slightest tint of a rosy glow.

Jackpot. If she's blushing, then she's receptive to the flirting, and maybe she'll be receptive for more. Plus it's a pretty good indication that she _is_ , judging from the offer to stay in her guest room.

Jess tucks away the last of her dinner. "I only have one duffle," she says. "I like to travel light."

Kathleen turns back to her. "As long as you don't mind the fact that the dog will probably wake you at five AM, you should be fine."

"I love dogs," Jess says honestly. "I never had one growing up." No matter how many times she and Jo had begged, Ellen had been adamant: no pets. Not even a goldfish. She'd explained over and over that there was no room in a hunters' tavern for an animal, but it hadn't made it any less disappointing for them--especially Jo, who was desperate for a puppy.

"I didn't either," Kathleen says. "And the dog belonged to my brother."

Jess senses there's a story there, but she's equally aware of the 'do not press for information' vibe she's getting.

"Let me get the bill," Jess offers; even though she's using fake credit cards and cash hustled in bars, she feels like it's the least she can do for taking advantage of Kathleen's generosity--and she is, simply because she's going to make the most of the fact that she's in Kathleen's house overnight.

"I'd rather--" Kathleen lifts one shoulder. "If you insist."

"Oh, I do," Jess says, smiling.

Their shoulders graze against each other as they leave the diner, and Jess gets a delicious, electric thrill. And from Kathleen's almost imperceptible shiver, she gets the impression that she felt it, too.

:::

"No-one's used the guest room since it belonged to my brother," Kathleen explains later, as Jess carefully sets her duffle down on the gleaming hardwood floor just inside the door. "I'll bring you a couple of pillows and some fresh sheets," she adds.

"This is really kind of you," Jess says, trying to keep a lid on the slang because she doesn't want to blow her cover. She can still hardly believe she's standing here, inside of Kathleen's beautiful house.

"It's really no trouble," Kathleen says, and Jess thinks that maybe she's lonely. Other than the dog--a fluffy little white thing--she appears to live alone. Kathleen gives her a slightly awkward smile. "Listen, I'll show you the bathroom."

They walk down the hall, and then through the kitchen, and there's a door cracked open across from the bathroom, and Jess can see that it must be Kathleen's bedroom--it has an inviting double bed within, dressed in hues of midnight blue and a paler blue for the pillowcases and presumably the sheets.

It suits her--Jess tries to keep her mind from wandering to what Kathleen might look like, spread out on her mattress, with her blue eyes against the backdrop of her sheets.

It doesn't really work.

"It's right here," Kathleen says. "There's another bathroom down that hall--" she points "--but this one is closer."

Jess shifts on her feet. She's already said _thank you_ and several variations thereof, which leaves her at a loss for what to say.

Luckily, Kathleen fills in the silence. "In the morning, I have gourmet coffee if you want it, and we can continue going over the files."

She's still dressed in her uniform, and Jess gestures to it. "Aren't you going to put something more comfortable on?"

Oh man, that was _so_ not smooth--it was a come-on, sure, but Jess hadn't been sure yet that come-ons would be acceptable. But Kathleen just smiles ruefully.

"I did kind of forget. It's not often I have a guest. I'll be right back. There's books on the shelf in the living room, which is just off that hall as well. You're welcome to read one while you wait, if you like."

"I'm good," Jess says quickly. "I'm just going to keep going over the case in my head, for now."

"Don't do that too long," Kathleen says, and Jess thinks she's actually teasing her. "It'll drive you crazy if you don't put it away for at least a little while."

She disappears into the bedroom and the door shuts with a decisive 'click'.

Jess leans back against the wall, which is painted cream, and realises that Kathleen didn't lock her bedroom door.

She knows that's not an invitation to enter, but she thinks it _might_ be an indication of how welcome flirting might be--Kathleen could've easily locked it, since Jess hasn't been exactly subtle about her interest.

Then again, once she finds someone she likes, she rarely is; there's usually not enough time to play hard to get or be coy about these things.

Jess closes her eyes and hums softly to herself, and then her phone buzzes in her pocket. She considers ignoring it, but then again, it could be something important, like a contact calling with information about a case, so she digs it out of her jeans and reads the display.

It's Jo's number this time. Jess feels an aching twinge, almost guilt, maybe, for being with another woman right now, but at the same time, it's not like she owes Jo anything.

Other than an explanation, at least.

She sends the call to voicemail. It takes a few moments, but the phone beeps about a new message, and Jess deletes it without listening to it. She doesn't know what Jo wants, but she's still not ready to talk to her, to hear her voice.

She stuffs her phone back into her pocket. But the damage is done: now she's thinking about Jo, and how without her, Jess might never have known how much she wanted girls. At the time, everything being thrown at her was about boys; there had been so many that came through the Roadhouse and they often stared at her.

Maybe she would have figured it out eventually--she'd like to think she would have--but Jo certainly hurried the process along.

The door opens again, and Kathleen is... well, Jess wasn't expecting this out the seemingly straitlaced police officer.

Again, in blue; Jess is impressed. The colour looks amazing on her, and Kathleen seems to know it; she has a pale blue tank on, and slightly darker blue cropped pajama pants.

"So," she says, and there's a twinkle in those exquisite eyes. "Shall we have a slumber party? Order pizza and drink beer?"

Jess is thrown for a loop, but Kathleen steps a little bit closer.

"I was just kidding," she tells Jess. "I'm way too old for that, and all stuffy about my responsibilities and priorities now." She laughs.

Jess is still leaning against the wall, and Kathleen is close enough that when Jess exhales, it causes fine strands of hair at Kathleen's temples to flutter.

She doesn't think Kathleen is quite sure what to do next; she's teasing, and flirtatious even, but Jess doesn't think she really lets herself relax all that often. Doubts that she spends a lot of time beneath the sheets with _anyone_ , really.

"You have--" Jess reaches out. "An eyelash," she finishes, "let me just get that for you."

Kathleen obediently closes her eyes, and on her pale skin, Jess can see the blue framework of veins running through her eyelids. There's no eyelash, but Jess wants to start slow, to put her at ease; she barely touches her skin, but she can see the way it makes Kathleen tremble.

"Got it," Jess says in a whisper, and Kathleen opens her eyes, startling Jess all over again at how piercingly blue they are. She imagines that criminals probably just fall all over themselves to confess when faced with them--Jess would.

"Thanks," Kathleen says, and she sounds just a touch breathless.

So Jess goes in for the kill. She skims the curve of Kathleen's cheek, then cups her chin and lowers her head by excruciating inches, giving Kathleen time to pull away, or object in some fashion.

She doesn't seem to know exactly what to do, but she doesn't protest, either; her eyes drift closed again and her mouth opens just a little. For long moments Jess just watches her, breathing against her mouth; Kathleen finally sighs and closes the distance a little more.

"Easy," Jess whispers, and Kathleen opens her eyes. "Kathleen."

"Call me Kathie," she says. "Kate."

They are so close now that they are sharing each other's breath. Kathleen lifts her chin a little, and she comes closer, like she's going to finally lean into the kiss that they both know is coming, but at the last second, she averts her head a little.

Jess thinks maybe she misjudged the situation, and she lets go of Kathleen's chin, but then she turns back, reaching up to pet Jess's blond hair, which is a mess at the moment.

Jess lets out a breath and ducks her head again. This time, Kathleen doesn't shy away; Jess lays her slightly open mouth over Kathleen's.

And Kathleen, despite her initial reluctance--or perhaps shyness, Jess isn't sure--slips her tongue into Jess's mouth first.

Jess isn't really used to extremely soft, slow kisses, but that seems to suit Kathleen; she can tell that from the lines of her body as Jess puts her hands on her waist.

And so they kiss, and Jess has no idea how much time is passing, only aware of Kathleen's warm skin beneath the thin tank; the feel of her soft, slightly chapped lips; the scent of her body as she becomes more and more aroused by the kisses.

And at last, she draws back, putting her hand to her mouth, as if testing to see how swollen and damp her lips are.

It's really adorable: the idea that this straightforward, clearly very confident woman, finds something like this unsettling.

Kathleen finds one of Jess's hands and links their fingers together, pulling her hand away--but before Jess can think this is a retreat of sorts, Kathleen is stepping backward, tugging her along towards her bedroom.

And Jess goes, without really needing much persuasion. Or any at all, actually.

:::

Jess is right: the blue of the sheets and blanket that Kathleen is lying on make her blue eyes even more dramatic. It makes Jess's heart stutter and start to pump harder in her chest; she knows Kathleen is growing a little anxious because Jess isn't doing anything yet, so she runs her fingertips down Kathleen's bare arm.

"I'm just enjoying the view," she whispers. Kathleen is so different here; gone is the extraordinary confidence and in its place is a light glow of sorts, skin flushed, every hard angle from being a woman in a man's world softened.

Kathleen takes a deep breath, and it makes her chest expand, breasts pressed taut against the fabric of her tank. Jess dares a slight caress to one; her nipples perk up instantly. She gasps a little.

"Have you..." Jess chews her lip and tries to think of a delicate way to phrase it. "Have you done this before?"

"When I was in college," she says, sounding breathless and excited, "I may've experimented a bit."

"I'll be gentle," Jess promises, moulding her hand to the round swell of Kathleen's breast.

"Don't worry about it," Kathleen says though. "I won't break, and if I didn't want this--want you--I wouldn't be here, trust me."

Jess smiles. "That's what I like to hear," she replies, and sets to undressing Kathleen as if unwrapping a Christmas present.

She's straddling Kathleen's hips, her knees on either side, but she swings one leg over so that Kathleen can push herself up against the pale blue pillows and raise her arms so that Jess can roll her tank upwards, over her head, and off.

The bare skin exposed by the maneuver is startling in its loveliness--not that Jess didn't expect beauty, but buried beneath the police uniform are perfectly-sized breasts, round and full, and tipped with pink.

Jess wants to take them in her mouth immediately, but she's still not sure if Kathleen is truly ready for this. She says she is, and her body is ready, but Jess can tell that there's still a certain amount of misgivings involved.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asks, very carefully laying the tank aside. It's something to do with her hands besides what she really wants to do with them, which is cup each breast and test its weight, its firmness.

"No," Kathleen says, shaking her head, hair falling loose from its ponytail, long strands falling forward to frame her face.

"I'm not going to stop," Jess tells her then. "After this, you have to say something if you don't want me to go on."

"Go on; it's fine," Kathleen says. She reaches up and slides both hands down Jess's face. She brings her hands down, to Jess's slim waist, and lifts the hem of her shirt.

Jess thinks that maybe Kathleen _does_ want to be the one to undress her, but her movements are still tentative, unsure; she's on board with the idea but still new to the execution, which is fine with Jess.

A strand of her own hair falls into her eyes and she blows it out of her face, covering Kathleen's hands and then, crossing her arms, yanks her shirt over her head.

She's not dressed for bed yet, so she still has a bra on: it's red with black lace, and Jess has matching panties on underneath her jeans. She wonders what Kathleen thinks about it--is she the type of woman to care whether the girl she's sleeping with has sexy lingerie on, or is she more practical and mundane, and just wants to get to the prize beneath?

Again, lured into dangerous territory, Jess veers away from those thoughts, from trying to understand or get close to someone she's not going to know very long.

She stretches her arms behind her and unhooks the bra. Jess isn't shy, and she's not ashamed of her body; her breasts are bigger than Kathleen's, but Kathleen's are more nicely shaped and perkier, so Jess isn't really feeling particularly egotistical at the moment.

Jess realises she hasn't taken this much time to just absorb things like this in a long while. Maybe since the last time she slept with Jo, she's not sure; taking inventory of Kathleen, of herself, and finding that Kathleen really does blow most of the girls she's fucked out of the water, makes her tingle.

Anticipation really can make the payoff that much sweeter and more explosive, and generally Jess just doesn't have the _time_. But right now, she does. The case can wait till morning, she doesn't have to be anywhere, and Kathleen is in her own house in her own bed.

No parents to interrupt them, no ghosts or whatever to come after Jess, just the two of them, getting naked and getting it on.

God, it makes Jess so wet just thinking of the fact that she doesn't have to _rush._

She helps Kathleen out of her pajama pants and the white bikini panties she's wearing. She must do it with a certain amount of practised skill, because Kathleen watches her, then speaks.

"Do you do this often?"

Jess, in the process of straddling Kathleen again, pauses and gives her a considering look.

"No, not that often," she lies. Everything, every day, is always a lie; Jess has no choice. The names she gives, the stories she tells, the profession she claims to own at any given time: all lies. "I had a steady girlfriend for a long time," Jess says, as if imparting a secret she's never told anyone before.

"What happened?" Kathleen asks, even as she grows bolder, cupping Jess's breasts and lifting them in her hands. Jess shivers; he nipples go taut and aching.

"It didn't work out," Jess says quietly. This much, at least, is true. She lies carefully down on top of Kathleen, hands on Kathleen's shoulders, bellies pressed together, breasts crushed against each other. She angles her head and kisses Kathleen again, slow and searching, deep and breath-taking.

Kathleen's body is hot underneath hers, sweat prickling against Jess's skin. Her body is relaxing, and Jess doesn't have to put her hand between Kathleen's legs to know that she's swelling, dampening, opening up.

But she slips a hand between them and does it anyway, gratified and totally hot at the way Kathleen's body parts easily for her fingers.

Kathleen lets out a breathless gasp which separates their lips, and her head lolls back, exposing her neck.

Jess tugs her fingers free and grasps Kathleen's hip, smearing her wetness on her skin, and sits up again and then lowers her head to Kathleen's breasts. One of those things she doesn't get to concentrate on that often, Jess finally has a chance to set to the task of kissing and licking Kathleen's breasts.

It's one of those things she loves doing, but usually falls to the wayside because she's in a hurry, taking time out for only a quick fuck instead of a more leisurely one. Not that Kathleen knows that, though.

She positions the flat of her tongue on the round upswell of one breast, curling it until she's touching Kathleen's nipple with the tip of her tongue.

Then, twirling her tongue around her nipple, she sucks it into her mouth, closing her lips around it gently. She continues to tease it with her tongue, enjoying the way it pebbles up hard, pushing up into her mouth, and she very carefully bares her teeth and tugs on it.

Kathleen makes another gasping, panting moan and writhes underneath Jess; enough so that she has to put a hand on Kathleen's belly to help keep her still.

Her stomach is slippery with her sweat, and Jess laves at her nipple with her tongue for a few seconds longer before switching off, turning her attention to the other one.

Kathleen's fingers wind into her hair, pulling it a little as Jess covers the abandoned breast with her hand and kneads it gently as she continues to suck at the other.

"Oh," Kathleen moans, and Jess figures that she's doing it right, and finds herself curious as to whether Kathleen's last experience with another girl was any good.

Hell, Jess does this often, but she still doesn't really know if she's any good at it.

But she likes to think that she is.

Jess lifts her head, mouth wet with saliva, and licks her lips, then sucks the bottom one into her mouth. There's sweat cold against the overheated skin at her temples, dripping slowly, torturously down her face, until Kathleen opens those amazing blue eyes and sees that; she untangles her fingers from Jess's hair and wipes the sweat away with her palms.

Jess skims her hands up and down Kathleen's sides, brushing quickly the outsides of her breasts, then settling on her hips; Jess inches down the bed until she's level with Kathleen's navel, and then she begins to kiss her. Soft, fluttery, barely-there presses of her lips across the satiny skin of Kathleen's belly.

Kathleen's ab muscles flutter under her mouth, and Jess finds in between her legs again, stuffing her fingers back in without giving Kathleen any warning--she knows from her own experience that a sudden, unexpected thrust can feel amazingly good.

Kathleen, as if proving this to be true, cants her hips up, soaks Jess's fingers, and pants noisily.

Jess works two fingers in and out, bending them at the knuckles and pressing them against the sweet spot deep inside; Kathleen continues to moan and her body moves restlessly under Jess, pushing back against Jess's fingers.

And then she does something startling: she speaks, and what she says is remarkable.

"There's a vibrator in the chest of drawers."

Jess raises her head to look at her, and there's a fine blush on her cheeks as if drawn there by an artist. Kathleen bites the corner of her lip.

"I live alone," she explains simply, and Jess nods. It's not that she doesn't know about sex toys or that she's never used them, she just wasn't quite expecting Kathleen to own one.

But in a way, as Kathleen said, it makes sense. She probably doesn't have another person to do this with all that often, if the stamp of loneliness that hangs in her house is any indication--and Jess is pretty sure it is.

Jess leans down, kisses her lips quickly, and then pulls her fingers out and hops down from the bed. Once down there, she wipes her hand on her jeans and takes a moment to kick out of them and her panties, then opens the top drawer.

"Under the pink socks," Kathleen says, and Jess has to fight a grin. Kathleen just didn't strike her as the type to have pink socks, so maybe this is the only reason why.

She lifts up the pink socks and finds the silver bullet vibrator nestled beneath; she takes it out and tests it, and the batteries are apparently still good as it buzzes to life.

She climbs back onto the bed and places the vibrator--turned off again now--on the mattress next to Kathleen's hip. And then she grips the inside of each thigh and spreads her legs wider; Kathleen assists her by moving her legs easily.

Jess picks up the vibrator again and positions it at the apex of Kathleen's sex, moving it so it slides the little hood out of the way and then she turns it on, barely touching Kathleen.

But Kathleen knows what she likes, because she immediately says, "Harder. Press down more."

It'd be too much sensation for Jess, but despite the fact that she has an advantage at this because she has the same equipment, she does know not all women are the same or enjoy the same things.

So she pushes down, and Kathleen's legs lock up, thigh muscles taut as guitar strings, and yells. From somewhere else in the house, the dog howls.

It doesn't seem to make Kathleen shy though, not any more. Now she's clearly loving every second of Jess pleasuring her, and Jess twists the vibrator a little, moving it ever-so-slightly until Kathleen's moans get more and more urgent and pronounced.

Her voice is rising in pitch, and her body is trembling under Jess like a bomb set to go off.

In a way, she is; Jess turns the vibrator again and pushes in with it, and just like that Kathleen shouts again, body wracked with tremors, and Jess holds the vibrator in place with one hand while she shoves her fingers into Kathleen's body with the other.

Kathleen's muscles are clenching fiercely, and she's dripping wet down along Jess's wrist now; Jess fucks her with her fingers even as she keeps the vibrator relentlessly on Kathleen.

Finally, she gasps a protest: "Oh, God, stop!"

Jess flicks the vibrator away and into the palm of her hand, shutting it off and silencing it. The room, too, blares with silence broken only by Kathleen's wrecked breaths.

Her body is still shaking and trembling, and Jess slides her fingers free again; Kathleen's lips part and Jess, not even sure if it's an invitation or not, goes for it.

She pushes her fingers, damp from Kathleen's body, into her mouth, and Kathleen licks at them until they're clean.

When Jess withdraws her fingers, Kathleen is smiling a little.

"Your turn," is all she really needs to say, before Jess is collapsing onto her back, ready to see what Kathleen has to offer.

:::

Later, lying close in the bed, Kathleen fingers Jess's blond hair and takes a deep breath. Jess is staring up at the darkened ceiling, thinking about things better left alone to lie in darkness, when Kathleen begins to speak softly.

"My brother is one of those that went missing," she murmurs. The room is hushed and and the air is charged with the telling of secrets. "He was one of the first. The investigation back then was only opened because I insisted. The station didn't really want to look any further into it until three more people had gone missing, and by then a lot of the leads from my brother's disappearance had dried up."

"I'm so sorry," Jess says, rolling towards her and putting her palm on Kathleen's bare shoulder.

Kathleen shrugs the other shoulder. "You didn't cause it. But we were close. He was living with me for the time being. He'd just come off a bad relationship and he'd come back home. He'd only been here a few weeks when he just vanished." She pauses, voice obviously wobbling, then goes on. "I always felt like it was my fault somehow. Both that it had happened, and that I had never been able to find him."

"I doubt it's your fault," Jess whispers. "In fact, I am quite sure it wasn't."

Kathleen sniffles, and Jess touches her damp cheek, smudging the tears there.

"Maybe not," Kathleen says, "but things will never be the same." She tugs Jess closer. "Thank you for this."

Jess huddles against her, sharing body warmth and trying to be compassionate--and she _does_ care--but she knows that very soon, she's going to blow out of town the way she came in, and Kathleen will be left wondering about her, as well.

:::

The Benders are a family that lives way in the backwoods of Hibbing, and it's almost pure coincidence that Jess winds up there. She was driving, following Kathleen to check on a lead, when she turned the wrong corner and wound up lost.

And her first impression of them is not a good one: the father's face is bearded and scarred, and the sons all look stocky and intimidating, but it's the little girl that gives Jess the shivers.

She's got to be at least fourteen, but the way two of her brothers are hanging onto her, Jess gets a very creeped out vibe. She supposes it's somewhat unfair of her to judge, but somehow, things look different from the outside, and when the relationship implied is between brother and sister.

The father watches her car as she pulls back out onto the road, and she casts one quick glance back as she drives away.

But that fleeting glimpse of them pings something on Jess's radar, and she already knows she needs to go back and snoop around.

:::

Jess lets Kathleen know where she's going next, and she heads back to where she saw the little wooden sign carved with 'The Benders' and parks out a ways.

In the end, she discovers that the Benders are crazier than she thought, as Kathleen has to come to her rescue before the creepy family makes sure Jess is what's for dinner.

When it's all over, Kathleen is stripped down to a white, sleeveless ribbed tank, face smeared with dirt and chest heaving with exertion.

Jess wants to take her back to bed, but she knows she won't be able to: Kathleen has just discovered that this is where her brother disappeared to, and that he won't be coming back.

So Jess settles for taking her hand, rubbing circles into the palm, as she says, "I really enjoyed meeting you. And now that the case is solved, I need to head back and make my report."

"Of course," Kathleen says, still a tad tearful. "Thank you for helping us out here. I really appreciate it--and in spite of everything, at least this gives me some closure."

Jess knows that, more than anything, rather than closure, Kathleen would like to have her brother back.

It makes Jess think of how she'd kind of like Jo back, even though that was obviously never meant to be.

:::

So, with the first case on her agenda out of the way, Jess points her car in the direction of Palo Alto, California, and turns the music up loud.

Time to see what Ellen's important gig is.

:::

The gig is a dorm fire. It really appears totally innocent on the surface--no-one saw anything suspicious, and there was no-one home at the time, so the fire destroyed only the apartment, but didn't kill anyone.

In Jess's experience, that sort of thing usually means someone got careless--if it had been anything else, well, there should have been casualties.

Jess is about to chalk it up to a wasted trip when she stops in the bar just outside of campus for a quick drink, and runs into this absolutely gorgeous brunette. She knows she should just move on, but she can't help eyeing the girl from where she's sitting.

And apparently she's very obvious about it, because the girl gets up and strides over, definitely heading for Jess and with a definite purpose to her long-legged walk.

She slides onto the barstool next to Jess and holds out her hand.

"I'm Ruby," she introduces herself. Jess shakes her hand and smiles. She likes being the one getting hit on sometimes, too. Not for nothing, she thinks again about how nice it is, too, to chat up a girl who's not a slim blonde. Ruby's _really_ tiny; she's petite and her body, while curved generously in the chest and hips, is still probably a size zero.

Jess isn't jealous, though. She knows she's good-looking enough even if she's taller and slightly more built.

She's also really feeling the vibe here.

And then Ruby tips the mouth of her beer towards Jess and says,

"I saw you down at the site of the fire." She turns the beer bottle round and places it at her lips, then pauses, sets it on the bar-top, and adds, "You're a hunter, right? Me too. That fire? Was not an accident."

"No-one was hurt," Jess says. She's starting to feel a little out of her element.

"Yeah, but you didn't check out the EMF." Ruby nods solemnly and takes a long pull of her beer. Jess is even more attracted to her because she doesn't have a girly drink in her hand.

"Couldn't get past the police tape," Jess admits; "Not with the security around."

"Gotta learn to work that body," Ruby tells her. Her eyes are a deep, velvety brown that shimmers in the barlight like a ribbon of chocolate.

"I'm..." Jess swallows, drinks from her own beer to cover her awkwardness. But Ruby seems to know what she's trying to say.

"Don't tell me you never learned to flirt with a _guy_ , too," she says. "It's really not that hard to pretend you're interested."

Jess shrugs, a little helplessly. "I might've tried harder if it seemed more like my kind of thing," she says. "But there were no casualties and it could just as easily have been the wiring, like the police said."

"If Ellen Harvelle sent you here," Ruby says, "then it's not nothing. And believe me, that desiccated wreck lit up the EMF metre like a Christmas tree."

"You know Ellen?" Jess asks, pushed a little off-balance by the offhanded reference.

"She runs the Roadhouse," Ruby says casually. "Most hunters know her."

"All right," Jess capitulates. "I give in. What is it we're dealing with?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Ruby says with a grin. "I need to get an even closer look, so I'm going to head back after dark and just kind of... sneak my way in. Wanna come?"

Jess gets the impression that that's actually a come-on, an invitation, and while it's an odd set-up and situation for a date, she's a hunter, Ruby's a hunter, when is anything hunters do normal?

So she grins back. "Yeah," she says. "Sure, why not?"

:::

Jess has felt this silly on hunts before, but usually she's alone with no-one to witness it; she can tell Ruby's not even thinking about that, but she still feels self-conscious dressed in all black, with her hair pushed up under a black baseball cap--"It's too blond, it will stand out", Ruby'd said.

And she's following behind Ruby as the girl creeps around the corner into the alley next to the dorm building. Ruby looks good in the charcoal grey she's wearing. Her long, wavy brunette hair is a jumbled mess down her back and on her shoulders, and she has a tight grey sweater on with a square neckline and short sleeves. She's wearing a pleated grey skirt, and grey tights.

Jess is actually jealous, because she would have preferred an outfit that was less conspicuous if they get caught, but she can't really argue that Ruby looks good and she didn't have anything quite like that.

She's hoping she won't have to actually try and flirt with one of the security guys or policemen, because that's what trick she never learned.

In point of fact, she was lucky that back in Hibbing, Minnesota, the local law enforcement had been Kathleen and not some guy.

Ruby ducks under the police tape, so petite that she barely has to lean down. Jess has a more difficult time, the police tape fluttering as she bends down onto her knees to creep beneath it.

Ruby's waiting patiently as Jess gets back to her feet, wondering what the knees of her black jeans look like now.

"It's this way," Ruby says, pointing. The faint glow of the streetlights illuminates Ruby's gesture.

"Is it safe," Jess starts, "to climb those stairs?"

Ruby grins wickedly. "Probably not, which would explain all the precautions taken by the police, don't you think? But don't worry. I don't think we'll have a problem."

Ruby produces a set of lock-picks from somewhere--Jess would really like to know where, considering her current outfit--and breaks into the side door.

"This is..." Jess searches for the correct word. "Thrilling," she settles on at last. "Somehow hunting is more attractive when you're not doing it alone."

They're standing just inside the door now, Ruby on the step above Jess, and she shoves the door shut, dipping them into immediate darkness. The stairs do feel sturdy beneath Jess's feet, which turns out to be a good thing when she finds herself suddenly pressed against the wall of the stairwell, Ruby's breath sweetly hot against her lips just before the kiss.

It's a prelude, Jess can tell at once; this kiss is only the beginning. They don't have time for more, not now, not really, but Ruby kisses her just the same, tongue thoroughly dominant in her mouth.

There's the faintest flavour in Ruby's mouth that Jess can't identify; maybe something she'd eaten earlier?

Jess pushes back against Ruby's body, enjoying the soft-yet-firm press of Ruby's breasts against hers as she fully engages in the kiss, biting at Ruby's lower lip.

Ruby's hand is suddenly cupping Jess between her legs over the denim. Jess can feel the hot, insistent throb there, the slow seep of wetness into her panties--it's almost an itch, a piercing kind of sensation that starts at that epicentre and spreads.

She tears her mouth away from Ruby's, pressing her hand to her lips, feeling their heat and the swelling there; swelling that mimics another part of her body.

"Not yet," she whispers. "We've got work to do first."

It's too dark for her to see Ruby's expression, but Ruby's warm hand slides down her thigh a bit and disappears, leaving the cold feeling of absence behind.

"I'm sorry," Ruby says. "I just couldn't help myself."

"We'll just check this out--" Jess says, and _Ruby's_ hand covers her mouth this time.

"Let's hurry," Ruby urges.

Jess clicks on the flashlight they'd brought with them--stashed in the duffle that Jess has been carrying over her shoulder--and directs the beam up the stairs.

Ruby climbs them first, giving Jess peek-a-boo views of her white, lacy panties as she takes each step. The panties are a cross between a thong and a bikini and Jess is, therefore, kind of hypnotised by the flashes of Ruby's taut ass.

If Ruby knows about this, she doesn't care; Jess realises hazily that those dark tights she thought Ruby was wearing are actually thigh-highs held up with a garter--God, so sexy.

She can't wait to get her hands on her, to push up the pleats of her skirt and cup each silky ass-cheek, slide her fingers into the lacy panties until she finds the slick opening to Ruby's body.

Jess is so distracted that she almost runs Ruby over when the girl stops at the top of the stairs.

"This way," she says, and she pushes open a door that's hanging crookedly on its hinges, giving them both a view of the room that had been torched. It's been destroyed, ashes and charring everywhere, and Ruby takes the EMF metre from Jess and turns it on, showing her as it lights up immediately.

"Ghost?" Jess questions, but Ruby shakes her head. There's a streak of moonlight slashing across the floor from the broken window. It's turning everything in the room silver, including the ends of Ruby's hair.

"I don't think so," Ruby says. "Maybe a poltergeist, I'm not sure. Or it could be caused by a person who was either extremely frightened by something like a ghost, or... I got nothing, but--" Ruby casts a glance at the window. "Wait."

Jess isn't sure what they're looking at when Ruby picks her way through the debris in the room and wipes her finger over the windowsill, but that's okay, because Ruby tells her.

"Sulfur," she says grimly. "I know what we're dealing with now."

"So what is it?" Jess asks. This is obviously out of her purview by this point. Ruby's wearing a very somber expression.

"Not something you want to mess with alone," she says darkly. "Not at all a good thing. We're hunting a demon."

Something dark and primal shoots through Jess: fear. Fear that she's unused to, because in all her hunting, this is the first time she's been faced with something like this.

"So what do we do?" she asks. She realises that, without noticing, she's crept closer to Ruby as if the other girl can protect her.

"It's gone by now," Ruby says. "But we have to figure out how to track it; figure out what it wants. Why torch this dorm room?"

Jess picks up a picture off the floor. The glass is cracked and spiderwebbed, and the edges of the print within are curled and black, but she can make out one of the people in the photo.

It's a girl, tall and slender. Her hair is short and uneven like it's been feathered badly, and the picture was taken in bad lighting, making the colour of her hair impossible to tell.

She's pretty, from what Jess can see under the smoke damage.

Jess sets it down on the floor again. She's not sure whether the girl in the photo lived in this dorm, or if she's someone else, someone precious to the person who lived here.

"Come on," Ruby says, "I think we've learned everything we can from here."

Jess can still feel that tingle between her legs; it hasn't subsided and her skin feels so sensitive that the slightest brush of anything against her might make her fly apart.

She takes Ruby's hands and pulls her through the doorway into the bedroom, which is dim and fills her mouth with the taste of ash; the bed is relatively untouched, even though, oddly enough, the ceiling is utterly black as if the fire originated there.

She pushes Ruby down into a sitting position on the bed, then straddles her lap, her knees on either side of Ruby's waist. Jess immediately claims her lips in a filthy kiss, and as she distracts Ruby with her tongue and her teeth, she slides one hand down over Ruby's sweater, shoving it up to touch her soft belly briefly, then down, rucking up the pleated skirt, cupping her hand over the front of Ruby's white panties at the crease of her body.

Jess works her finger into the elastic at the leg and finds Ruby wet already, body willing and swelling open for Jess's fingers.

Ruby gasps, a moan filling her throat and Jess's mouth as Jess begins to finger-fuck her.

Ruby hitches her hips up as best she can under Jess's weight, trying to get Jess's fingers in deeper; Jess crams a third finger in and jams them up as deep as she can.

"God, yes," Ruby cries out, and she's rocking beneath Jess's body, her own hands fluttering over Jess's shoulders as if she doesn't know where to put them.

She clutches at Jess's sides, just under her ribcage, and hangs on as she continues to fuck herself against Jess's fingers.

Ruby is dripping all over Jess's hand and down her wrist, and Jess's own body is swollen and chafing at the seam of her jeans, her panties soaked through--Jess is fairly certain her jeans are dampened through as well, and Ruby can probably feel it against her bare thighs.

Jess grabs at Ruby's hip, trying to keep her still enough to get her off.

Ruby frees up one hand and presses it hard against Jess through the crotch of her jeans. Jess throws her head back and throws out an equally throaty cry as Ruby begins to grind the heel of her palm against Jess's softness.

Jess keeps up her rhythm, her thumb circling the apex of Ruby's sex, crooking her fingers deep within the incredibly hot, silky-rich walls of Ruby's body.

And even as she hurls Ruby over the edge into unbelievable pleasure, Ruby's palm is still snug and forceful against Jess.

Jess doesn't even need any direct contact; the friction of her panties, the squelch of her wetness against her throbbing, swollen flesh, and the firm contact of Ruby's palm take her into the promised land just the same.

She closes her eyes, and as Ruby starts to come down, she falls backward onto the bed, and Jess moves with her, until they're lying, panting, on the mattress.

"We should go, so we don't get caught," Ruby says, out-of-breath.

Jess can feel Ruby's heart still hammering her chest.

"In a few minutes," Jess mumbles. "I can't move."

She's having enough trouble catching her breath on her own.

"When we get out of here," Ruby says, "we should hunt this thing together. Never a good idea to go after a demon alone."

"Sounds good," Jess says, and rolls to Ruby's side to keep from squashing her. She plays her damp fingers along Ruby's neckline, leaving smears of wetness across the tops of her breasts.

They do need to get out of here, but Jess figures they can spare a few more minutes.

:::

Jess doesn't want to do it, but if Ellen texts, she had better fucking read it. So she slips out of bed with Ruby and pads as quietly as she can into the motel bathroom.

It's been a few months, and they haven't found any information on the demon, such as where it is, or even how to track it--and honestly, Jess likes Ruby, but something feels strange and off lately.

She clicks the button to view the message and tries not to think about how, when she lies next to Ruby in bed each night, she feels a yawning distance between them.

At first it had seemed so perfect: Ruby was beautiful, she was spunky, she had guts and drive. But after they started sharing a bed--cheaper, occasionally--something just _changed_. Suddenly Ruby's possessive, and her personality seems darker than it had been.

The message is short and to the point, because Ellen doesn't have the patience for long texts (for all Jess knows, Jo typed it out for her anyway): _Call Ash; has info._

She glances around the partially open door. Ruby's still asleep, her dark hair tousled where it peeks out from under the blanket, one bare leg outstretched. And as much as Jess wonders if this is the right thing, she still wants to ignore the directive from Ellen and go over, run her palm up Ruby's calf, and press damp kisses at the back of her knee, just where Ruby loves it.

But she doesn't. She knocks the door shut quietly with the toes of her bare foot and obediently dials the Roadhouse, praying Jo isn't the one to pick up.

The phone rings and rings, and then, to Jess's surprise and great relief, Ash is the one to answer.

"Yo, this is the Roadhouse," he says. Nothing else. Jess finds herself smiling and wishing she could see Ash again--his mullet's probably all messed up from sleeping on it, the party temporarily flattened, and she can just imagine he's probably standing just outside his room in a long t-shirt and no underwear.

"Hey, Ash, it's Jess," she says. "Ellen sent me a very commanding text just now."

"You're lucky," Ash says, muffled like he's cupping his hand over his mouth to keep from being overheard. "Ellen really thinks you need to talk to Jo, but she relented this morning and said I could wait for you to call."

"Let me guess," Jess teases, "she's got bets on how long it would take me to do as I was told."

"I just won ten bucks," Ash tells her cheekily. "Anyhow, listen. Don't even ask me how El keeps up with what you're doing, but she told me to keep an eye out for..." he pauses. "I'm rambling. Omens."

"Omens?"

"Storms, especially with a lot of lightning, severe weather, tornadoes... out of season, mostly. Residents saying they 'came out of nowhere'. That's your ticket. Track the weather, babe, and you ought to be able to track down... whatever it is. Gotta go now. I'm supposed to be researching for Ellen."

"Thanks, Ash," Jess says. She wants to say more, but doesn't know what to say--what's expected of her in this situation. Probably, _I'll see you soon_ , but she won't say that, because it isn't true.

She's not going back to the Roadhouse for as long as she can manage it, if ever.

:::

It starts as just a phantom itch under the skin. Jess will turn away from Ruby and the hair on the back of her neck will prickle.

At first, she took it as a sign that her feelings for Ruby were strengthening. But... she can't break herself of the habit of waking up and expecting blond hair in the bed next to her, and so maybe that's it, maybe it's what's making her antsy.

But Jess doesn't really think that's it.

Ruby's driving, and she's chattering on as she likes to do when she drives--Jess isn't required to listen to her or respond, it's Ruby's way of having something to listen to without having the radio playing.

And Jess is thinking. She steals glances at Ruby, wondering. Why this odd feeling, after so long? The dark hair hasn't bothered her before. It's always been refreshing before.

Besides which, she likes the other girl. They've grown so close, sharing quarters; they don't have sex all that often, but she sees Ruby naked a lot and vice versa, and when they do have sex, it's pretty outstanding.

"And once," Ruby is saying, "I hunted this thing like ripped the heads off its victims..."

Jess isn't really expected to do anything, but suddenly she can't help herself.

"Where are you from originally?" she asks, blurting out the question because, to be honest, she doesn't know Ruby all that well.

That makes Ruby go silent, filling the car with a moody atmosphere.

"Just..." she says finally. "A little town in Kansas."

"You never talk about yourself," Jess says. She's suddenly annoyed that they've spent months in each other's pockets and she still knows next to nothing about this girl. This girl that her hands and fingers have searched and explored. The pretty lips that she used to kiss, before it all started to get strange.

"Neither do you," Ruby snaps back, and Jess is flustered. It's a sharp tone, very much unlike how Ruby usually is: soft-spoken and gentle, even when she's being a wicked tease or a commanding partner during the hunts they've been on.

"I almost died when I was four," Jess says. "Ellen took me in."

"I stay away from the Roadhouse," Ruby says casually. "I may have slept with someone there once, on the road, and let me tell you, it's a scary prospect ever going back there."

And instantly, immediately, Jess begins to doubt, to wonder. Ellen is the scariest thing about the Roadhouse, and sleeping with Jo is probably the quickest way to light the fire of intended murder under Ellen.

"Here," Ruby says. "This is the place where the latest storms seem to have centred on."

Jess reads the sign, creaking in the slow breeze, over a tiny general store: _Sioux Falls General Store_.

She shrugs, throws open her door and prepares to ask the type of probing questions she's gotten so adept at in the time she's been on the road.

Ruby bumps into a grizzled old guy as he steps out of the general store, and he stops and looks at her, head tilted a little.

"Yeah, what?" she says, a little rudely. Jess shifts, stuffing her hands in her back pockets. This isn't usually how Ruby greets people.

But, Jess did make her angry in the car, so that must be why.

"You hunt?" the guy says gruffly, still considering Ruby. Jess wants to take a step closer, but for some reason, she doesn't.

"Maybe," Ruby says, just as calculating in return in her assessment of the guy.

"Listen," he says, "come back to my place for a drink, it's as hot as a beast out of hell here, and I got cool beer and a/c. You too," he says, gesturing to Jess. "Maybe I can help y'all."

Ruby doesn't seem all that certain of the idea, but she turns back to the car. And the guy gives Jess a really, really long look before he shoves his trucker cap down further on his head and makes his way over to a beat-up truck.

:::

Maybe, Jess had finally been clueing in. It isn't as much a surprise as it should be when Ruby sputters over the beer she's been given and the guy--who'd introduced himself as Bobby Singer--flips back a corner of the rug.

"How long you been associatin' with this demon?" he asks Jess, and all she can do is stare in shock. Sure, something had been off for awhile, but this? She doesn't know what to say.

"I, uh. It's been a few months."

"Take it from me," Bobby says as he picks up an ancient looking book. "You don't want to be here in about ten minutes, so you should probably take the car and scram."

 _That's_ pretty rude too, but Jess isn't sure she cares; she picks up her bag and practically runs out to the car, where she sits for a few minutes, panting and unsettled.

She'd _slept_ with Ruby. She'd thought she had _feelings_ for her.

Broken up, confused, she opens the text that beeps on her phone.

It's from Jo.

She's already read half the message before her shaky fingers can find the delete button.

_Please, come back._

Jess closes her eyes, blocking out the rest of the neatly typed letters, and hits delete before she can weaken and reply.

This is the _last_ thing she needs.

:::

Alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol, that's what she needs, Jess decides as she kicks back on the motel bed with the bottle of whiskey.

Jess is already shitfaced from too much time spent in the bar, fending off touchy-feely guys, and still, her body is begging for something to make her forget, something to take the sting out of knowing she let a demon touch her in her most intimate places.

No matter how drunk she is, she can't black out the fact that she'd been so _stupid_ to sleep with a demon.

She's loose and relaxed though, her palm cupped over the crotch of her panties.

Drunk, so drunk. No other explanation. Running, hiding, avoiding, and sweet, blessed alcohol is her undoing all over again.

Her cell phone feels cold against her hot, sweaty cheek. It rings, and Jess slumps farther down the pillows, her fingers wiggling into the leg elastic of her panties.

When the ringing finally cuts out to signal her call has been answered, Jess is half-way unconscious and half-way to coming.

"Jesus. It's fucking 3 A.M., _now_ you decide to actually talk to me?"

Jo sounds angry, but Jess, even wasted, knows that part of that anger is from worry. She forces her lips to form words.

"S-sorry," she slurs. "'m an idiot, I know it. I don' think I'll remember this t'morrow."

" _Jesus_ ," Jo repeats. "You're trashed. I should have known. Listen to me, Jessica Moore, because this is important. You better get your ass back to the Roadhouse when you sober up. So you better remember this tomorrow."

Jess is sure that Jo is probably dying from relief that Jess isn't ignoring her at the moment, but her friend--former girlfriend?--still sounds angry.

"Don' see why," Jess says, eyes drooping closed.

"Just fucking do as you're told," Jo grumbles. "Sam needs to meet you, and Bobby Singer's been in touch, so you ought to know what'll happen to you if you don't get your ass back here and face the music."

"Shit," Jess mumbles, and the cell is starting to feel awfully hot against her face. She tries to say something else, but the alcoholic haze drags her under.

:::

Jess wishes that her hangover and foggy memory would have kept her from recalling Jo's urgent, impossible-to-disobey message.

She hangs around the motel room for a couple of hours trying to conquer the pain in her head and the terrible pit of darkness in her stomach; it's not like she's going to take off when she's still kind of drunk.

But eventually she has to admit to herself that she's sobered up enough, and now she's just being a coward. Whatever it is, it's got to be important--Jess still hates herself for sleeping with a demon, and then calling Jo to whine about it.

Jess sighs deeply. She packs up the few things she'd taken out of her duffle and checks out of the motel; the kid sitting at the counter gives her a second glance, but Jess gets out of there before he can hit on her--she's still not comfortable around guys who want her, even after the months with Ruby... Jess pushes the thought away.

There's really no reason why _this_ time, the summons should seem important enough for the prodigal daughter--so to speak--to come home, but maybe it's just that Jess is worn down, tired.

She's been on the road for over a year now. She's killed things that before, she'd only dreamed about; she's had a fling in numerous towns and cities as she criss-crossed the U.S.; she's had an affair with a demon that had, briefly, felt like it _meant_ something--like Jess had finally found someone _else_.

That relationship burns low in her belly like acid. That she gave herself a chance to _feel_ something for longer than a couple of nights, and it turns out to be the worst idea she's ever had. Compared to that type of bad judgement, going back to the Roadhouse--even if it means facing up to Jo--can't really be any worse.

Jess shifts her car into gear and begins to drive. Back to... well, the closest thing she's ever had to a home since the one she was born in burned to the ground, a pile of ash, and ashen memories.

Haunting the corners of her mind is her sister: was that real, or is there just something wrong with Jess?

Is she crazy--did she know, all along, that Ruby was a demon; was that why she'd fallen for her?

:::

It's a long drive back to the Roadhouse. Plenty of time to reflect and beat herself up over her own stupid choices. Too much time, really. She can't bring herself to put the radio on, so she just drives towards the sun, her cell on the passenger seat, and wonders just what's so important.

God, she's a fucking dumbass. How amateur does one have to be, to shack up with a demon and not even know it? She'd thought she could handle this; thought she was a good hunter, but this? This is confirmation that Ellen was right from the beginning.

Jess just wasn't ready. Deep in her mind, she's cursing Jo, but that's not really fair. Because she had enough choices besides just running away, which, even though she would probably do it all over again, she has to admit was a cowardly move.

"This is the dumbest thing I've ever done," Jess mutters to herself. She's expecting Ruby's response when she remembers. She frowns and squints through her sunglasses. "Ellen's going to have my ass if she's found out about Ruby."

Talking to herself is probably lame, the truly ultimate expression of it, but it's quiet in the car and she just...

"Sam," she says, shaking her head. "Why do I need to go back there, meet _Sam_?" _Is that Jo's boyfriend now--is she supposed to meet him, give her approval or something?_ "Well, it's not going to happen."

Jess is _not_ going to pretend like she doesn't care. She's not going to give Jo the satisfaction: either knowing she broke Jess's heart, or that she hates even the _idea_ of Jo with some guy.

"I always thought it meant _something_ ," Jess mumbles, fighting the tears. She's got nothing but time, nothing to do but rehash her life, the mistakes she's made. "Why me," she wonders aloud. Her parents dead, her sister erased from existence--her first love, not even _like_ her.

Because one thing Jess has learned from this journey through the past year: she likes girls, and that's who she is, she can't turn it off.

"Why, Jo," she asks the empty air, "why did you do it, if you weren't like me, if you didn't even like girls?"

:::

Jess shoves her sunglasses up her shorn blond hair. In the oppressive heat of summer, she'd chopped it all off. She's curious as to what Ellen's going to think of it; will she scold? Or will she be too distracted by Jess's colossal error in judgement? _And what will Jo think,_ a tiny voice whispers in her head, _will she think it's hot? Will she even care?_

Pulling a huge, bracing breath into her lungs, she walks towards the Roadhouse door. And just before she gets there, hand outstretched for the handle, it opens, and a very tall, very pretty girl is standing highlighted by the sun.

"Oh, hi!" she exclaims. "I'm sorry, did I hit you with the door?"

Jess is stunned stupid. She can't make her tongue work to reply; this girl is probably the only one she's met in a long time--if ever--that is taller than she is. And so beautiful. Her hair is short, swept away from her face, but all the edges are uneven as if she's cut it herself. And oddly, it's incredibly attractive.

Her features are anything but classically perfect: the nose tips up and flares in a unique way; her eyes are slanted up, cat-like, enchantingly green with a touch of blue. Jess is waxing poetic in her head and the girl tilts her head, narrowing one eye.

"You okay?" She lets the door slam shut and steps fully into the sunshine.

All of the oxygen leaves Jess's lungs, and her body wavers a little, knees weak. This is impossible. In all of her travels across the U.S., she comes back to the Roadhouse, and the most beautiful woman she's ever seen is _here_? Jess feels dusty and dishevelled and completely unable to measure up.

"Oh, my, I'm..." Jess pauses and brushes her hands off on her cut-off shorts. "God, I'm sorry. I'm just tired." _And enthralled_ , the little voice helpfully adds.

The girl smiles, and again Jess is struck by her unconventional features, yet arranged on her, they're perfectly matched. It makes no sense. And beyond even that, she looks oddly familiar...

"You know..." she says. "Are you Jess? Jo said you should be arriving soon, and you look..." she trails off, holds out her hand. "I'm Sam."

 _This_ is Sam? Not a boy after all, not the guy Jo had been coming on to, but this striking girl? Jess is suddenly glad that Jo insisted she come back. What are the chances she can get her into bed?

Way, way down, oppressed and locked down, is the notion that she's back to her old habits, trying to pick up every girl she finds the least bit attractive.

In the sun, Sam's hair is a mixture of light golden brown with streaks of gold highlights. It actually kind of reminds Jess of her own hair, only Sam's is definitely darker.

"Listen, we should go inside. Your mother wants to talk to you."

Jess feels a sharp, unbearable pang that makes her eyes water. Ellen's not her _real_ mother, and it's odd to hear someone refer to her that way, but at the same time, Ellen's the only mother Jess really remembers.

It's a painful but likely necessary reminder. Ellen's probably worried herself into a truly wonderful rage, and Jess tries to prepare herself.

"Yeah," Jess says, late. "I am. It's nice to meet you, Sam." Remembering her manners is something she better do fast, if she's going to spend any length of time around Ellen.

Sam grabs her hand as if they've been friends forever and pulls her towards the door.

"And Jo is dying to see you," she says in a whisper. "She won't say so, but I can tell how anxious she's been since she found out you were coming back."

Jess may never be ready for this, but there's no getting away from it now. She folds her fingers together with Sam's and, heart beating in trepidation, draws strength from Sam as she opens the door.

:::

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Ellen isn't shouting; on the contrary, she's so furious her voice has gone quiet with a lethal edge. Jess figures she deserves the scolding, even if she ought to be allowed to make her own life choices.

Of course, considering some of the choices she's made lately, maybe she _does_ need someone to give her advice once in awhile. She sneaks a peek at Jo, wondering if Jo has enough good sense to have helped Jess had she not run off, rashly, by herself. Does Ellen let Jo hunt?

"Are you even listening to me? Jessica Lee, your poor mother, bless her, would have _shot_ me if she knew what you've been getting up to these past months!"

"I'm sorry, honestly," Jess says meekly; it's not entirely true, though. She's _very_ sorry about the snafu with Ruby, but if she could get away from here again, just take off to get as far from Jo as possible, she would--at the first available opportunity.

"I'm telling you," Ellen says, shaking her head, "if Bobby Singer hadn't been there, who knows what might have happened to you. You don't mess with demons, Jessica. They will fuck you up."

Jess can tell from the fact that Ellen's pulling no punches with her language that she's beyond simply angry and into the realm of vehement due to worry.

"I didn't know," Jess points out, but her voice is small. She understands that ignorance is not an excuse--it can get you killed. It _has_ gotten plenty of hunters killed.

"Which is why you should not have been hunting by yourself!" Ellen exclaims, throwing her hands up, exasperated. "If you had only spent some more time learning things, you might have been able to take on some hunts with a more experienced hunter. You should have done this the _right_ way, not running off half-cocked; what in the world were you thinking, anyway?"

 _That I didn't want to watch Jo slip away, to lose her to some boy_ , Jess thinks, lowering her eyes and staring at her feet. "I don't know," she whispers, because it's not like she can tell Ellen about the stuff she and Jo have gotten up to. She's not really sure how Ellen would react, but if the gayness of it didn't bother her, she's pretty sure the fact that those things happened with her daughter would, in fact, bother her a great deal.

Sam is sitting at the bar, sipping at a glass of water, eyes trained on the door carefully, trying to convince everyone she's not listening, but Jess has the sense that Sam is very much invested in what's going on, though why, Jess hasn't a clue.

Jo is leaning with her back against the bar, her low-slung jeans displaying her hips to perfection. She pushes off of it, steps closer, but Jess, without telling her feet to do it, backs up. Jo pauses, hesitates, then gives her an indiscernible look and disappears into the back, where the rooms are--including the one that she and Jess used to share.

Angrily, Jess wonders whether that guy is back there with her. Does Ellen approve of Jo having a boyfriend?

"This was a colossally stupid thing to do," Ellen tells her. Jess knows she's about to continue, but then Ash interrupts from the doorway.

"Okay, there will be time for more lectures later, but for now, we need to catch Jess up to speed."

"I'm exhausted," Jess says, feeling every inch of her hangover and the hours of driving. "Can it _please_ wait until I've had a nap, a bath, something to eat, and maybe a beer?"

Ellen stares at her for a moment. "All right," she says, "though you might want whiskey instead. Go on. But please bathe _before_ you get into one of the beds, all right?"

Jess lifts her bag from the floor, then pauses. She doesn't know where she's supposed to go; to the room she shared with Jo? But...

Ellen understands without Jess even opening her mouth. "Jo's moved to the smaller back room; we stuffed a tiny cot in there. In was necessary when we started getting more overnight travellers. Sam's in the room you used to sleep in, and there's two beds in there, I am sure she won't mind. And you know where the bathroom is."

Jess nods, then walks out of the room. There's a strange feeling, cloying around her, making her want to hunch her back and duck her head down.

Like the knowledge Ash has to impart is going to change her life forever, but why would it? What is there that he could say, that would change her perception of herself?

:::

"Hey," Jess says, fresh from her bath, teeth brushed, hair hurriedly combed. Sam is cross-legged on her bed, a magazine in front of her, but upon closer inspection, Jess can see that Sam is going through the news stories as if she's looking for something.

If she's at the Roadhouse, though, that's probably exactly what she's doing.

Sam glances up, grins hugely, and it brings out gorgeous dimples; it's the type of smile that fills any room with sunshine almost immediately. It sets Jess at ease right away.

"Just, you know, trying to find anomalies," Sam says. She shoves the magazine away, throws her legs over the side of the bed, and, planting her palms next to her hips on the mattress, she keeps showering Jess with that smile.

"Anomalies, huh? We usually just call those 'weird shit'."

"I went to college," Sam says. "Or at least, for awhile I did. I kind of had to leave early."

Jess plops down onto her own bed. "Why did you have to leave early?"

"Oh, it's a long story," Sam says, dismissing the question. "What's up with you and Jo?"

Jess is about to dissemble the same way that Sam just had, but instead, she says, "Honestly? We just don't like the same things."

Sam nods sympathetically, but then she gets up, comes over to Jess's bed and kneels in front of it. Her hands are close enough to Jess's thighs that she can feel the heat of Sam's palms.

"You might be surprised," Sam suggests. She's giving Jess a very bemused look, as if there's a mystery in front of her that she can't solve.

"No, I don't think so," Jess says, trying not to sound like a mournful puppy. Judging from Sam's expression, though, she's failed.

"I like the same things," Sam says. "I saw the way you looked at me, Jess. Have you ever actually had the chance to express how you feel?"

"I've slept my way through the United States, if that's what you mean," Jess says defensively. Sam shakes her head and smiles crookedly, only one dimple showing this time.

"You may have done that, but I don't think you ever actually came to understand what that means about yourself."

"It probably means I'm a useless whore," Jess says, but Sam frowns.

"I wouldn't say hunting, even as an amateur, is useless, for one, and secondly, you're not a whore. A girl can go after what she needs without being a whore or any of those other demeaning names. But that wasn't my point. You didn't sleep your way through the U.S.," Sam says, "you slept with the _female_ population, didn't you?"

"So what?" Jess is beginning to feel defensive, and really young and stupid. Though Sam really doesn't seem all that much older than she is.

"So, this," Sam whispers, breath feathering hot over Jess's lips--when did she get that close?--and then Sam's mouth is slanting over her own, hand curving around the back of Jess's neck, and pressing her into the kiss.

Jess's eyes close, she can feel her heart miss a beat and then start back up, faster and uneven, and her body warms and begins to swell. She winds her hands into the short, pretty hair Sam has, and parts her lips so that their tongues can meet, touch, lick against one another.

Her body is becoming slick, dripping slowly, the feel of it like ribbon being dragged over her excruciatingly sensitive skin.

Sam tilts her head a little, and her hand slips down the nape of Jess's neck, down onto her shoulder, and she leans into Jess at the same time she pushes Jess towards her, and their breasts meet and crush together, sharp aching pleasure immediate.

Sam curls her tongue in Jess's mouth, slowly around Jess's tongue, and Jess is not sure she's ever been kissed like this. It's magical; this time she's not worried about demons or interruptions, all she wants is for this to never, ever end.

But it does end, Sam drifting back, her mouth slick and shining, strawberry-wine red. "You like girls."

"Yeah," Jess gasps breathlessly. She wants to pull Sam back towards her.

"No," Sam says, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I wanted to make a point, and I could have done it without doing... well, without kissing you, but I just. I wanted to do that so badly."

"Kiss me again," Jess murmurs, reaching for Sam's short hair, her pretty rounded cheeks again.

"I can't," Sam says. "I want to, but you see, I'm not here just to mess around. Um, that came out the wrong way. I meant mess around in general, like waste time from my hunting... that doesn't sound any better. Shit. Look, the thing is, I have a boyfriend out there somewhere. I have no idea where he is. Eventually I'll find him, but in the meantime, I'm trying to work out the secrets of my history."

"A boyfriend," Jess says disbelievingly.

"Yeah, see, the point I was making is that some girls--some people, actually--will be able to be with a guy or a girl, but you can't. You only like girls; I like both. Make sense?"

"I think I should have gone to college," Jess says wryly.

"It's true I experimented in college," Sam says, grinning. "A lot of kids do. It's how I figured out how hot it could be to touch another woman. But it's also where I met my boyfriend. He'd be kinda pissed if he thought I was... well, no, he'd be more pissed I made out with a girl when he couldn't watch." She laughs a little. "He's a good guy, not at all what that makes him sound like, though."

"Which is why you won't kiss me again?" Jess asks, though she knows the answer.

"Yeah," Sam says. "Although you never know, maybe Dean will want me to when he finds me. Or I find him. Whichever comes first."

"So," Jess says, wondering if she can get Sam to be this open about any other subject. "Honestly, why did you leave school?"

Sam's lips turn down. "Someone... no, some _thing_ tried to kill me," she says darkly. Her very demeanour is changed now, but it's not frightened so much as angry and determined.

"Oh my God, did you kill it?"

"No," Sam says. "It destroyed my dorm room with a fire--"

"That's where I know you from!" Jess interjects, shocked and surprised. _This_ is the girl from that photograph! "I was there. I saw your room; Ruby and I investigated it. And... we thought it was a demon that did it."

"Yeah, it was," Sam says. "That's why I'm here. Because I needed help trying to find it and kill it. This thing... you don't know, Jess. It tried to get to me before. It killed my whole family when I was just a baby. To this day, no-one knows quite how I survived."

Jess knows her mouth is hanging open. "That happened to me," she says. "Well, not _precisely_ like that. A fire killed my parents." _And my sister_ , she thinks, but she doesn't say it aloud; it might not even be true, since Jess isn't sure she trusts her memory anymore.

"...that's really strange," Sam says. "In Palo Alto, everyone thought it was just bad wiring. But... I don't even know how I knew, I just knew it wasn't that. It was something else. Dean... well, this is such a long, boring story, but I met Dean when I was in school..."

:::

  
__

"You've got a nice ride," the guy says to her, a cocky grin on his face. Sam's first instinct is to flip him off, because he's got that look of a womanizing jerk, but for some reason she doesn't.

__

_"It was my grandfather's," she replies. It's the only real relic left from her family. It had showed up, unexplained but for the deed in her name and the note that said it used to belong to her grandfather, Samuel Campbell. She had no idea where it had come from, since she'd grown up in foster care._

_"It's totally sweet," the guy continues. "I'm Dean. Can I take you out sometime?"_

_She doesn't even know why she says yes, but she does. And later, it's completely by accident that she finds out his true profession; her legs are wrapped around his hips, his jeans still on, her skirt shoved up, her back against the wall of her dorm room._

_She doesn't think that he meant to tell her, just he stopped thrusting all of a sudden, pulling from her and gently setting her down._

_"You ever hear funny noises in here?" he asks. Sam stares at him. The only other thing she knows about her grandfather is that he used to have a journal chronicling evil creatures and how to kill them. But that's mostly rumour--the town where she was born, he was notorious for being a crackpot. Still, though. She's known forever that the death of her parents, the fire, everything... it was caused by something_

not human _._

"Are you a hunter?" she says, and Dean turns to her, shock written across his face.

__

_But he tells her the truth, and then before Sam knows it, they're taking each other out more often and more often, until one night, this time Sam on her back on her bed, with her silken slip yanked up her thighs, Dean between them, he says,_

_"I'm going to find out what happened to your family."_

:::

"Um, yeah, sorry about the skin-showing parts of that story. And so we went off together, you know?"--and Jess does know--"and I got kidnapped in Hibbing, and Dean never found me, and I haven't been able to track him down yet, either. I'm not really sure how I escaped, actually. I guess I just got lucky somehow."

Jess is dumbfounded by all the revelations. Still exhausted, too, so she leans back on her bed, and Sam goes back to her own.

"I... need to think about all this," Jess says haltingly. It must have been Kathleen and Jess who saved Sam, without even realising it.

Sam makes a noise.

"It's a lot to take in, if you haven't lived with it your whole life," Sam says, and Jess rolls over. She doesn't mean to be rude, but she's asleep before she can tell Sam that she's going to bed.

:::

Jess thinks that maybe Hell really is other people. Or at least, this, where she's dragging a damp cloth back and forth over the same table and trying to ignore the fact that it's super early, Ellen and Ash are off conferring somewhere, and it's just Jess and Jo, in a room that should be more than big enough for both of them, but with all of their issues, Jess feels smothered by it all.

She's still fervently hoping that Jo will just let it ride, but all of a sudden there's a hand on her wrist, forcing her to be still, and Jo is twisting her around so that Jess is pinned with her ass against the table, Jo in front of her.

God, she looks good. Jess swallows around the sharp lump rising in her throat. Jo is just as beautiful as she remembered--so beautiful that she's never been able to forget.

Her blond hair is shining, glinting in the sunlight like metallic threads are sewn through it. Her blue eyes, though, are shaded with unhappiness, troubled.

She doesn't look angry anymore. Just sad. And maybe a little disappointed.

"You're an idiot," Jo says, and Jess has heard _that_ before. But Jo sounds sorrowful as she says it.

"I already know that," Jess says defensively, but Jo puts a finger over her lips.

"You need to fucking listen to me," Jo grinds out. "I've been trying to get you to fucking _listen_ for a goddamn year at least, and you're so up to your neck in this muck that you've been carrying around, you can't even just..." Jo sucks in a breath, but she doesn't move her finger.

Jess's heart is pounding. She's stupidly, irrationally terrified, because she's just too much of a coward to face the words. She wants to go back to hiding her head in the sand and not having to hear Jo _tell_ her about him, to tell her it meant nothing, that...

"Stop doing that," Jo says sharply. "I can see your mind running around like a panicked rat. You don't even know what I'm going to say."

Even though Jo is still shushing her, Jess says, "I can guess."

"No," Jo says. "You can't." She moves her finger, but she does it slowly, and it drags Jess's lower lip down before Jo withdraws it entirely. There's a very soft, tender expression on Jo's face. It makes Jess's heart break even more. This is the part where Jo tries to let her down easy, right? Just to ease her own conscience?

"Stop doing that," Jo repeats. "You have no idea. Jessica Lee Moore, I love you."

Jess drops her eyes and refuses to watch Jo's face any more.

"Yeah, of course you do," she says, defeated. "I'm your sister."

" _Jesus_ Christ," Jo says. "No, you shining example of idiocy, I _love_ you." Jo yanks at Jess's chin until she's staring her in the eyes again. "I've loved you forever. But instead of sticking it out, you saw one _stupid_ interaction and made a _stupid_ assumption and ran away."

"I don't understand." These are words that Jess has longed for her to say, but somehow, now that Jo has said them, they don't seem to make sense in conjunction with each other.

"I was talking to Dean Winchester," Jo says wearily. "He was trying to find his girlfriend--Sam. This is a place where people come for information, Jess. You know that. I wasn't trying to pick him up. _He_ wasn't trying to pick _me_ up. Jess, I've never liked boys that way. And that's because of you. I fell in love with you when we were so young that I could never fathom being with anyone else."

Jess is caught staring, pretty much. She's watching Jo's lips, and they're definitely moving, which means the words she's hearing are really being said.

"Jess," Jo says, and now she sounds a little desperate. "Just don't stare at me like a fool."

"I--" Jess wriggles against Jo's hold, and Jo moves back slightly, giving Jess the chance to drag Jo against her, both arms tight over the slender column of Jo's spine. "I love you too. I'm sorry I'm so fucking stupid."

"If you're going to be that fucking stupid," Jo says against her shoulder, "at least do it _with_ me, and not by ignoring me forever. Oh, God, I thought I'd never see you again."

Jess feels immediately, unbelievably guilty.

"I just... I can't..." Jess turns towards Jo, and their lips connect accidentally, on an awkward angle, and instead of the apology she's planning, she winds up kissing Jo until they're both drenched in sweat and breathing in huge, heaving pants against each other.

It's a kiss unlike any they've ever shared before, and Jess feels, for the first time, like maybe things are starting to go right.

:::

Jo and Jess have been sitting in one of the booths, staring stupidly at each other--googly eyes in full force--when Sam comes bursting into the room. She's panting, her hair in disarray, and she stashes herself on the other side of the booth and gives Jess a wide-eyed look.

"Jess," she says, but she's not calling out her name like she's expecting a response; it's more a declaration. "Jessica. Jessica Lee. Jessica Lee _Moore_ ," she finishes with emphasis. Jess is utterly bemused. What in the world is going on?

"What's up?" she asks, but Sam holds up a hand for her to be quiet.

" _Moore_ ," she repeats. "I'm Samantha Moore. And I know, I know, it's a common name. But it's not as common as having a grandfather named Samuel Campbell. As having your house burn down."

And it clicks in Jess's brain, just like the knowledge has always been there.

"You're my sister," she says. The words feel strange in her mouth, but saying them aloud takes away a heaviness she didn't even know she was carrying.

"Yeah," Sam says. "Ash is the one who made all the connections. He doesn't know how we got separated or anything, just that you must have carried me out of the fire."

Jess remembers the dreams, the phantom ache in her arms. "I did. I knew... I just thought I was crazy."

Jo is silent next to her, and Jess can't find the time to wonder what she's thinking. Actually, that's partly because she's just now remembering making out with Sam last night.

If the hint of a blush on Sam's cheekbones is any indication, she's remembering that too. But it's like she doesn't have to say a word; she knows that neither of them are going to mention it.

At least, not with an audience.

Sam's eyes are a little misty. "I have _family_ ," she says. "I thought I was all alone."

"You're not alone."

Three heads whip towards the doorway. Standing there, looking sheepish with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, is the guy Jo had been... _not flirting with_... talking to.

"Dean!" Sam is up and out of the booth so fast Jess almost gets whiplash for the second time. She hurls herself into his arms. "You found me, finally."

Jo catches Jess's eye. And Jess realises Jo is saying the same thing. Jess grabs her hand, pulls her from the bench and to her feet, and they tip-toe out of the room, leaving Sam to her reunion with her missing boyfriend.

:::

Lying in Jo's bed in the cramped back room, limbs entwined with each other, Jess is listening to Jo's breathing in the dim light of the setting sun.

"I really thought you weren't coming back," Jo murmurs against her bare shoulder. Jess is wearing a tank and panties, and Jo is wearing a button-down shirt and Jess rather suspects she doesn't have anything on underneath it. "I was so afraid I'd never get to tell you how I felt."

Jess can feel the rapid beat of Jo's heart through the barrier of her own skin. They must look relaxed and peaceful to an outsider, but Jess can tell how anxious Jo is from the way her heart's beating so fast.

She tightens her arm around Jo's waist, tugging her even closer. "I'm sorry," she whispers against Jo's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

"I was dumb," Jo says; she sounds as if she's reflecting on their shared past, and who knows, she probably is. "I thought you knew that I felt the same way about you." She's quiet for several breaths. "Jess, you were my first love. And I haven't loved anyone since."

Jess cuddles up to her, feeling guilty that she's messed around so much while away from Jo. She's about to open her mouth to confess, when Jo does that thing with her finger again, shushing her.

"Don't speak," she says, and her voice is soft and pitch-perfect. But she ruins the tenderness of the moment by adding, "you'll just ruin it."

Jess laughs. Jo is right; she knows her really well, after all.

She shifts so that she can reach Jo's mouth, tips her chin up, and instead of telling her about every girl she'd been with, she lets her lips tell Jo what she's feeling right now.

And what she's feeling right now is uncertain, but desperately in love. The world seems like it's glowing with all the possibility in her life now.

Jess isn't used to the idea that she has a place in someone's arms, more than just a temporary bout between sheets she doesn't recognise and won't be gracing again.

She kisses Jo long and slow, taking her time to re-learn every bit and piece of Jo's mouth, along with her self. It's been so long Jess thinks she should have forgotten this; instead, every movement of their mouths, in perfect sync, brings up another memory that Jess has kept in her head, even if boxed up.

Jo's lips and tongue tell Jess everything she needs to know about her lover. They impart secrets Jess hadn't known and reiterate everything else she's always known about Jo.

She can't keep her hands from roaming over Jo's face, trying to memorise by touch every feature: her nose, the corners of her lips as they curve under Jess's; the slight blemish at the side of her chin; the fringe of her lashes against her closed eyes. She musses up Jo's blond hair with her fingers, clutching at the strands as they kiss and kiss.

Jess thinks, hazily, that at some point she might do more than kiss Jo, but for now, all she can concentrate on is how good Jo feels, how amazing she tastes, how much Jess had missed this.

Jo, for her part, has her hands running up and down Jess's sides, her back, down over the swell of her ass and then returning to the small of her back. Jess rolls Jo onto her back and fits her knee between Jo's legs, ducking down to keep the contact of their lips intact.

Jo wraps her arms around Jess's torso and tugs her down, so that their breasts are touching. Jo's nipples are pebbled hard through the thin lawn of her shirt.

Jess works her other hand into Jo's hair as well and she grips it, pulling on it a little as she kisses Jo.

And then Jo must decide to move things along, because her fingers travel the length of Jess's back and then between her thighs, sliding her palm down the outside until she skims it between Jess's legs and hooks her fingers into the elastic of Jess's panties.

Jess knows that what she finds is unbearable wetness, her body already open and swollen and wet. The backs of her knees are beginning to sweat and there's droplets of it at her temples as she rolls her hips down to grind against Jo. Jo's fingers are driven deeper inside her with the motion.

Jess loses her breath to the hot, sweet confines of Jo's mouth as Jo crooks her fingers and drives them in, back and forth.

Jo lifts her hips forcefully, prolonging the contact between their lower bodies, and Jess grinds against her again in return, and they both gasp.

Jo's hair is turning dark blond at her forehead from perspiration, her lashes fluttering as she continues to raise her hips up to meet Jess, her pupils blown wide and dark every time Jess catches a glimpse of her eyes.

Jo's fingers are sending Jess over the edge into insanity with each perfect, delicious stroke; she's not going to leave Jo unsatisfied, though, because for the first time in a long time, the sex _means_ something and she doesn't want to be that lousy lay. She wants Jo to get off just as long and hard as Jess does, and that means...

Even though she loves Jo's hair, she removes one hand from its tangles and slides it down in between their bodies, halting Jo's upward thrusts to delve into her body.

Jo is dripping against Jess's fingers, her opening warm and welcoming as Jess parts her folds and pushes her fingers inside.

Jo lets out another panted gasp, her hips coming up sharply again, which crushes Jess's fingers and Jo swivels her hips and their clits rub together briefly, just enough to send what feels like an electric shock through every last nerve in Jess's body.

"Stop," Jo breathes, and for a heart-shattering second, Jess thinks Jo has changed her mind, that she _doesn't_ actually share Jess's feelings--at least until Jo moans and says, on the tail end of it, "stop thinking so much, it's not that, ah--"

Jess tugs her fingers free and plants her palms on the mattress, watching Jo carefully. Her girlfriend is sweating, fair skin flushed the colour of a sunburn, her lips puffy and damp.

"I want you to fuck me," Jo says breathlessly. Jess raises an eyebrow.

"I thought that's what I was doing?" she says, and though phrased as a question, it's more of a statement.

"Yeah, I know, but we've done this stuff before. I wanna--" Jo sucks in a huge draught of oxygen. "I wanna do something different. This means something more than before, I want it to be different."

"Like how?" Jess cocks her head and regards Jo, who is blushing even more fiercely.

"I want to feel you inside me," Jo says, eyes half-closed, her lips plump, her body radiating every sign of arousal.

Jess is fairly certain she's missing some critical piece of information, because...

"That's not physically possible," she says doubtfully.

"Move, for a second," Jo says, shoving at Jess. Jess allows herself to be moved, falling to Jo's side against the wall, and Jo gets up. She trots over to the dresser, rummages around in a drawer, and returns with... a dildo. And a harness.

Jess feels her eyes widen. She's never considered trying this before, not with anyone; yet trying it with Jo seems perfect. Just the thing to draw them even closer together, close enough that they can never be separated.

"Put this on," Jo says. She steps back, and a shaft of moonlight suddenly pierces the room, landing almost directly on Jo, who, in the shining beam of light, is unbuttoning her shirt, one button at a time.

Jess scrambles up and strips out of her tank top and her panties, and she has trouble figuring out how to put it on because she's so distracted by the sight of Jo's body, toned stomach and exquisite, round breasts being revealed by the shirt as Jo unbuttons.

Jo's not as developed as Jess--though once, she had the edge on her--but somehow that makes Jess even more eager. Her mouth floods with saliva and she can't wait to get close to her again.

Jo gives her a wicked half-grin. "Hurry up, I want you."

Jess shoves her legs into the harness and adjusts everything so that the fake cock is jutting out from her body. Jo kneels on the bed, leaning in, her breasts brushing against the tops of Jess's as she kisses her briefly, deliciously.

She winds an arm around Jess and their nipples touch, Jess's tightening again instantly, and she closes her eyes and enjoys the feel until Jo breaks the kiss.

"Open your eyes," she whispers against Jess's lips. "You'll need to see what you're doing."

Jess follows instruction, finding Jo's gaze in the dimness of the room, licking her lips and allowing Jo to climb onto the bed and lie back, her hair a swirled golden halo on the pillow.

Jess straddles Jo, and she reaches down and grips the fake cock with her fist. She giggles a little. "It's like a handle," she says. "If I actually had one of these, I don't know how I'd keep my hands off it."

Jo grins back. "I don't know how I'd ever keep my hands off _you_ ," she replies, and Jess wiggles her hips, making the dildo waggle a little.

"Stop it," Jo says, laughing, and Jess arranges her hips so that the tip of the dildo is nudging against Jo's opening and then kisses her again, running her palms all over every inch of skin that she can reach. If she never has this again, she wants to be sure her hands will retain the memory of every hollow, every valley and curve of Jo's slender body.

"I do love you," Jess says, dropping the words directly into Jo's mouth. Jo shudders, her body writhing under Jess's, and Jess wraps her hand around the strap-on again, this time rubbing the tip of it up over Jo's clit in tiny circles.

Jo's mouth falls open on a gasping, wrenching moan; she twists beneath Jess and Jess takes the opportunity to guide the dildo into Jo's body.

For a split second, she wishes she were a guy so she could _feel_ with it the incredible softness of Jo's inner walls, which her fingers remember distinctly.

Jo's so wet and slick it goes in easily, each inch disappearing into the rich softness of Jo's body until it's completely encased.

Jo grabs Jess by the hair, yanking her down. "I love your hair short like this," she says in a strangled voice. "And I do love you. God. Fuck me, Jessica Moore, fuck me as hard as you can."

Jess kisses her, a smile forming on her lips as she does so. She will cave to Jo's wishes--in a minute. First, though, she's going to do this _her_ way.

She starts off slow, simple. She's never done this before, not like she knows naturally what to do, so she spends the first few minutes learning a rhythm, driving in and out of Jo carefully, without any rush. Jo raises her hands to Jess's shoulders and her nails dig in as her hips cant up.

So Jess gives in. She starts to move faster, fucking the strap-on hard into Jo's body, making her girlfriend curse and sweat. Jo's skin is gleaming with perspiration from the hollow at her throat to the slight roundness of her belly, and probably below, though Jess can't see that far.

She starts to speak with every thrust. She's abusing Latin phrases, mixing up her idioms and such for sure, but she's telling Jo dirty things; dirty things and also stupidly romantic declarations, but only Jo's really going to know what she's saying, so it's okay.

The whole experience goes faster than Jess is expecting; Jo's pushing back at Jess with every inward stroke, and it sends sparklers exploding behind Jess's eyes, though Jo is the one to lose it first.

"Jess--!" she shouts, and Jess slaps a hand over her mouth to try and keep them from being overheard by Ellen. Jo's body bows off the bed, tremors beginning at the junction of her thighs and spreading. Jess shoves a finger into Jo against the moistened fake cock, enjoying the clutch and release of Jo's muscles as she comes, moaning into Jess's palm.

"My turn," Jess says huskily, throat dry. Jo reaches up and clumsily presses against the harness, creating friction against Jess's clit until she gasps, throws out a hand to support herself, and her orgasm floods over her in wracking tremors of pleasure.

It's just, it's over too fast. Her body is drenched in sweat and she pulls out of Jo, and Jo immediately clings to her. Suddenly gone is the girl with so much self-confidence Jess has always been jealous; gone is the self-assurance and the spit and fight that allows her to keep up with--and best, really--all the burly hunters that pass through her mother's bar.

"Don't leave me again," Jo whimpers against Jess's damp skin. She licks at it, presses open-mouthed kisses along every bit she can reach.

"No," Jess says, rolling to her side and clinging to her in return. "I'm not going to. You don't have to worry."

"Good," Jo says, but her speech is slurred, and Jess knows she's about to drop off to sleep.

Jess carefully disengages from her just long enough to kick out of the harness, then she wraps her arms around Jo again.

This time she can fall asleep next to her lover. She can wake up next to her lover. And then, when night rolls around again, she can fall asleep next to the same woman.

It relieves her so much that she falls asleep just about instantly.

:::

The following morning, Jo showers first while Jess sneaks back to the room she's supposed to be sharing with Sam.

Sam and Dean are all tied up together in bed, too, and Jess cracks a pleased smile. She gathers up some clothes, showers after Jo, and then finds her girlfriend in the kitchen area.

Jo and Jess are eating when Sam comes out and finds them.

"Hey, morning," Sam says cheerily. "You two look like you made up."

"Shh," Jo says, "my mother." Sam laughs, and Dean strides into the room, and now that Jess isn't afraid that he's competition she can appreciate, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, how hot he is.

Dean curves his arm around Sam's waist and they both sit down. The four of them are still eating in pleasant companionship when Ash and Ellen enter the room.

"You got stuff to do," Ash says. "There's a badass demon stalking your family, Jess, Sam. You need to find out why."

Dean chews on his waffles and swallows. "Yeah. I've been sayin' to Sammy here that we gotta get on the road and find it. And kill it."

"I'm coming with you," Jess says right away. "I want to help. This is my family, my sister. I need to be a part of this hunt."

She feels Jo stiffen next to her, but she rubs her fingers along Jo's thigh and says, "I know Jo wants to help too."

Jo immediately relaxes.

Ellen frowns, but she doesn't contradict them.

"Finish up your breakfast," she says. "You're going to want to be fortified for your hunt."

"I don't know when we'll make it back, Mrs. Harvelle," Dean says. "It might be a long time."

"I know," Ellen says. She's quiet, reserved, but there's strength in her tone. "Be careful. And don't ignore your messages, Jo. Jess."

They both nod.

And they finish their breakfast. They pack up, and as they're walking out the door, Dean pauses and says,

"We will find this thing, and we're going to find out why it's after you, and we _are_ going to kill it."

Jess turns and smiles at Jo.

And when Jo smiles back, Jess knows that everything is going to be okay.

fin.


End file.
